Babygirl
by Elsie girl
Summary: Yep it's an original name, but my dad was an original person... Finished. A sequel is up as requested: "Take Care of Yourself, Kid". Look for it! Thanks for all the reviews and support! Please read and review!
1. Still the South Side

**Disclaimer:** I wich I may I wish I might own them but I have not right. The Ousiders belongs to S.E. Hinton, not me!

**A/N:** I love the outsiders and R&R tons of the fanfictions, but haven't written one yet. I know it's another 'Curtis-sister fic', but I couldn't get the diea out of my head. Check it out and let me know what you think please (feel free to share anything)! Enjoy!

Title: Babygirl

_Summary/Taglaine:_ _Yep it's original, but my dad was an original person..._

Chapter 1:"Still the South Side"

Baby Girl Curtis." That's what the name tag said. I wanted to tell them: "Hey! That's wrong." I wanted to show them that it was spelled: 'Babygirl', as one word just like my brothers were: Sodapop and Ponyboy. I wanted to punch them in the face too for grabbing my arm and swinging me about like that, but I didn't do any of it. My knees were too shaky and my voice wouldn't work. Truth be told, I was too scared to do or say much of anything. I just let them slap a name tag with my name misspelled right on me and push me out the door. My brothers were just standing there. 'What's wrong with them?' I thought. 'Why weren't they trying to save me? Why were they standing by letting them take me away forever?' They could have fought them, they could have won. But they didn't. They just stood there as the social workers pulled me away.

That was about two months ago, but I still see it every night like it was yesterday. I call out to them: "Pony! Darry! Soda!" They still don't do anything. I still wake on the south side of town.

Here, my new bedroom is beautiful. It's all soft pink and yellow, with a bed on a princess-white frame and a soft canopy around me. I have a radio, a shelf of dolls and books, and a wardrobe full of clothes. I hate it all.

My favorite color is blue, like the sky in clear summer, not soft pink and yellow. I hate playing with dolls and wearing dresses. I prefer playing baseball and wearing overalls. I do like the radio, coloring books, and reading. Mostly that's all I do in my room: read black Beauty, Treasure Island, and The Secret Garden, color books, and listen to the radio. I remind myself of Ponyboy. Sometimes, if I'm sure no one will hear me, I pretend that he's there with me and talk to him. Just like this, at night I say goodnight to them like they're lying right there, but when I wake up I'm alone. When I wake up I'm still on the south side of town.

When I get up in the morning, I am supposed to get washed a dressed before breakfast. At home, I stumbled into the kitchen and only talked or moved further after I ate. Now I am expected to 'look presentable' at the breakfast table. I learned that one the hard way. Stumbling downstairs with your hair unbrushed in this house earns you a look like you're an uncivilized ape, a smack upside your head by the your new 'mom', and an ear drug upstairs by the nanny to the bathroom where you are instructed on how, and when, to get ready. If you are on time and decent looking, you get a hug, kiss, and a quiet peaceful breakfast.

Breakfast tables here are not a place for cake, beer, or horsing around- not that I ever tried any of that. Well, I did ask for cake but got _pan_cakes and a lecture on how 'dignified, well-raised' people eat balanced breakfasts. I can have anything I want so long as it's appropriate: pancakes, muffins, cereal, oatmeal, omelets, eggs, or toast. With it, I am welcome to drink milk or juice. Important rules to note are that I must use table manners, stay quiet, and be done eating on time. On the bright side, while it's boring, I don't have to do dishes or even clear my plate. Every morning, sitting quietly, I think of my brothers running around our house on the north side like crazy, trying to get ready, eating eggs (like mine but with chocolate cake), being as loud and obnoxious as ever with the whole gang probably standing around sipping beer. I wonder if they think about me and what I may be doing or eating. I close my eyes and mentally promise Darry that if he comes and gets me, I will do the dishes everyday and never once complain. But of course, he doesn't hear me; and of course, he is not thinking about me; and, of course, he hasn't magically came and saved me. When I open my eyes, I am still on the south side of town.

**A/N:** Well? It will get better but I need reviews! I'm open to suggestions and thanks for reading my first!


	2. When You Have No Choices

**Disclamier:** Please see previous chapter.

_**A/N:** Thanks so much to all my reviewers Those were some of the best and longest reviews I've ever gotten. They really made my day! I know the name is odd, but I thought it fit. I'm sorry this took a while. I know I said I'm a fast up-dater but I had a lot of trouble with this chapter and (if you checked my profile) I injured my finger so it's hard to type. Sorry. Well anyway, this one was a little difficult but I hope you like it. Please remember to tell me what you think!_

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an origianl name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 2:** "When You Have No Choices"

Thus, my day begins. After breakfast, we headed outside to our respective cars. My 'mom', Milly, rode with me to school. I say she rode with me because she definitely didn't drive. We had a driver that took us both downtown daily in a pink Cadillac. Meanwhile, the man of the house left earlier and took the other car to his work where he does whatever it is that he does that keeps him so rich. I remember thinking on my first morning here: 'Two cars. We were lucky to have one- and these aren't cheap cars either'! Today the well- learned routine was no different.

I did like the Cadillac because it reminded me of Elvis'. I thought it was so tuff, even though it was pink. I gasped the first time I saw it, itching to tell Soda about my dream car. Even Steve would have agreed if he saw it. I wondered if Milly knew her car was just like Elvis. Probably not because she thought he and the Beatles were sinful heathens. Thank God I had the sense to keep my radio playing low. I loved them both and would get all into it too, dancing and singing all over my room like plain fool.

On the ride there it was pretty quite so I just looked sleepily out the window and thought. That morning I was thinking: 'I don't know why they hired a whole man just to drive us around unless she can't drive. She may not be able to, now that I think about it. I can drive alright and I'm only nine for-crying-out -loud! She doesn't work either. May be she's not too bright. She sure is pretty; real slim and blonde with nice make-up, and I heard Two-bit say something before about prettiest girls not having a lick of sense. Then again, maybe that's just how rich people are; I wouldn't know.'

The school that I go to now is still in Tulsa, but you wouldn't know that from looking at it. It's a red brick building with stained-glass windows attached to the big church I'd seen downtown. It's a Catholic church, which means it's a private Catholic school. What this means to me, the former greaser, is: all Soc students (except orphans), teachers that will smack you with a strap or paddle faster than you can bat an eye, and school uniforms. Most of the Soc's don't accept me because I'm not a real Soc. Most of the orphans don't except me because I'm not a real orphan.

Another thing: uniforms, enough said. 'They are anything but tuff,' I remind myself as we arrive at the school. My braids began swirling in the wind as I stepped out of the car. Milly said to have I good day and I threw her a smile, hoping it was cute. I was actually glad that I had on white tights or my legs would have been cold under my plaid skirt. I rolled my eyes looking at my preppy shoes and clothes. Ducking my head, I ran in like every morning, afraid to be late and mortified of being seen by someone I knew.

The teachers watch me like a hawk. I guess they expect trouble because of my so called "origin". I've never been in trouble at school in my life and rarely at home, but now I have to be extra careful. I've been spanked maybe a couple times at home and even then it wasn't that bad. Once, it was when I was seven I got up and tried to cook mom and dad breakfast in bed. I did but when dad found out I used the stove he almost had a heart attack. One time I 'ran away' because I couldn't have a puppy for Christmas. When mom found me that time in the park I cried all the way home.

In my several weeks here, I've seen a few kids get smacked with rulers, straps, and a couple hit by this one brother with a cane. That old man is grumpier than a hung-over Dallas Winston. It looks real painful. It makes a loud sound and leaves a red welt and occasionally a bruise. Some teachers are satisfied with one good lick, but some pull you out of line, or out of your seat, and whack you half to death. Orphans turn to watch Socs get it, while Socs turn to watch orphans get it. I wonder, if I get whipped does that mean everyone will look, or no one? I don't want to find out. Personally, I cringe whenever I hear that "smack!" sound ring out in classroom or hallway.

Girls and boys are apart for most classes. That's weird to me because I was always surrounded by boys at my house and I was friends with the boys that played little leagues baseball in our neighborhood. Me and my best friend wanted to be one of them so bad that we'd go and watch all the time. We pretended to be commentators, but they teased us for being girls and told us to go away. We just came back to the lot day after day anyway. Dad used to tell me not to EVER give up just because of what anybody said.

One day I caught of foul ball from all the way across the street and they said if we disguised ourselves as boys we could play ball with them. We wore caps and jean pants and plain tees. Our gang played baseball everyday and we got pretty good too! Ever since, it was my dream to become the first girl in the world series. Everyone would joke about it, but I was dead serious.

While I had my mind set on the world series, Emily, my best friend ever, had her mind set of the team's star player: Sam. Sam was so cute it was hard to look at him and impossible not to. Emily called him: the Sodapop of upper-elementary school. Sam was always nice to me about my dream too. There was no doubt that greaser was gonna be a professional baseball player one day. One thing was certain: I hadn't met anyone quite like Sam in this school.

On the other hand, I had met a Nelly. Nelly was an orphan with short brown hair who loved baseball too. She was a tough little one with a dirty mouth like most greasers I knew, but a darn good liar. She could be as bad as anyone but smile all sweet and innocent with big doe eyes saying "yes ma'am" and "No sir" until hell froze over. Somewhat a leader of the orphan's group, I kind of admired Nelly.

Apparently, Nelly decided she kinda liked me too because I was from the rough side of town. I found this out when she lied straight to a teacher about me being late for class. When I asked why she'd lied through her teeth (in church) for me, she answered: "I felt like it. Don't expect it everyday or anything. Not like you never did nothin' for me. I just thought I'd cut you a break. It ain't like you're a Soc or something." Then she stuck out her tongue and sauntered off. Man she was cool.

The only person I had to talk to though was Miles. Miles had a very soc-y name but he was, well, different. Miles was an outcast because he was really smart. Picture the kid that's small for his age, can build anything, and is pouring over some book way to big for someone who is only ten. That's Miles. I know, it's pretty typical, but he is the real deal. He's a complete dork, high socks and glasses included. But Miles thought about things like I did, clouds and music and what not. He was kind of the voice of reason to me at times: "Don't try it. you know you'll get caught." He seemed in another world, until you dropped your books. He knew a lot of good books and would tell me all about them. He didn't mind helping me either, with homework and stuff, like pony used to do. Actually, I think I liked him because a lot of his traits reminded me of my older brother.

Once, I got a bunch of Soc boys picking on him to leave him alone by looking scary like Johnny taught me. He just kinda followed me around after that. I didn't mind. After all, you can't chose your friends when there aren't any choices.

This particular morning in class, things got a little interesting. Sister Connor was explaining something and Nelly had my attention as she threw paper wads at Miles. I did try not laugh at him, but he just looked so funny because he was trying to hide the fact that he was totally immersed in another book hidden inside his text. He kept looking around for the source of the paper ball springing down his shirt. I snorted.

That was very bad idea. At that moment, Nelly threw another one, only this made it look like I did it. Miles wheeled around to scowl at her, which looked like he was scowling at me.

Sister Connor strode -and I mean strode-down the aisle of desks to mine. She looked furious and I quickly tried to think up an explanation. Years of being a greaser told me one thing: never rat out your friends. Thinking fast, I wanted to remember if she was one that just got in a couple good smacks or really beat kids. 'Think, baby, think.' I told myself.

Too late. She yanked me out of my chair, jerked me around by the shoulder, and swung that awful yard stick at my backside. If I thought the backs of my legs and my bottom stung it was nothing compared to me cheeks. My entire face burned with that most awful of emotions for school kids: humiliation. Later when I got 'home' I learned another lesson of the new house: when you get in trouble at school, gets you in the same trouble at home.

Sometimes though, I learned, Dallas Winston is right. Dally once said that sometimes the trouble you get in is worth what you get out of it. Nelly, was impressed that I hadn't ratted her out and the next day she came and sat with me and Miles at lunch. That took guts. I just acted cool though, like we did this all the time. We talked and ate our carrots and complained about stupid stuff. About five minutes before the lunch bell rang, Miles looked up from "Great Expectations.

"Where'd you come from?" he asked in surprise. Nelly and I just cracked up.

So here I am, a greaser, sitting at a table with a orphan and a Soc. In the words of my brother Sodapop: "Who would have thunk it?"

_**A/N:** Well? The ending was hard, but what did you think? Should the chapters be shorter or this length? I'm open to suggestions and ideas for the plot! Thanks for reading and please review!_


	3. Curtis Law

**Disclaimer: **The Outsiders is most defintely not mine. I am writing with S.E. Hinton's characters for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringment is intended.

**A/N:**_ Thank you so much to all my reviewers- Chocky-Pocky, Maddie Miguel, Lifted, Laughing, K.L. Verne, ANGELMEGAN, and animalsare4life- you guys were awesome! Good questions, good guesses and great suggestions! Sorry for the delay in up-dateing but I had a hand injury that kept me from typing. I hope you didn't lose interest in my story. Enjoy and please review._

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 3: Curtis Law**

As odd a group as we thought we were, the rest of the school thought we were even odder. They called us the mis-match bunch. They thought it was clever, which it certainly was anything but. Still, Miles, Nelly, and I stuck together. On the playground we were kept from playing games with the other kids. I was used to that, but this time it was all of the other kids instead of just one group. At first we fought to play, then we stood around trying to look tuff. None of it worked in the slightest. So, we began to entertain ourselves with a ball and couple gloves.

I couldn't have one, according to my 'parents', because I was supposed to be a respectable young lady. Miles, who had no more use for a baseball glove than a Soc has for hair grease, lent me his. Nelly and I would throw back and forth as Miles read the latest of our adventure books aloud. I always wondered if Pony had read this book before.

Us enjoying recess made everyone else mad for some reason. They all stopped talking to us completely. They cut in front of us constantly so that we were always last in line. Although we didn't even notice at first, the mean stares, rude cutting, unfair exclusion, and extreme silent treatment grew to be impossible to ignore. I'm no tuff greaser and to tell you the truth, though I didn't like them, that hurt my feelings. The teachers eyed us weird too, like maybe we'd done something awful to deserve to be so ostracized.

Things were bad. That meant, they were going to get worse. It's called the Curtis law.

Steps were being taken to ensure our futures. By this I mean, we weren't doing what anyone expected of us and they decided to take drastic measures in order to change that. We just saw it as them trying to ruin our lives.

Nelly was told that hanging out with a boy and a north side kid was not exactly heading in the right direction to be adopted. Nelly firmly maintained that she didn't want to be adopted. We knew she was lying, but neither of us said anything. The other orphans had admired this in Nelly; the Soc's were horrified by it's unnaturalness; and I understood it. The chances of Nelly getting adopted were slim to none and if no one wanted me, I'd say I didn't want them either. To improve her manners and enhance her lady-like charm the sisters had enrolled her in etiquette classes.

As for Miles, he would have been happier if you closed the library. His parents had high hopes for him and were pleased with his grades but not so much with his conduct, as they put it. Miles never got in trouble so the only thing this could mean is that they were worried about him being outcast by the school, reading constantly, and hanging out with girls. Thus, they sentenced him with little league baseball.

Me, I got off easy. You can imagine my new guardians weren't too pleased with my choice of friends as well. Plans were made for my new schedule.

Afternoon was to be a time for piano lessons with the horrid old bat 'Miss' Stephanie Rolands. This delightfully charming form of torture took place between the hours of 4 and 5 pm on Mondays and Fridays. Marginally less painful is the Wednesday plan for ballet lessons with Madam Lousie. At least, I thought it would less painful. Unfortunately, when the awaited Wednesday came around, I was proven wrong. Between stretchers, humiliation at my lack of coordination, and death glares from the multitude of aspiring prima ballerinas, ballet practice quickly became the horror of horrors. a part of me felt ashamed too, like I could never face Dally or Two-bit again after prancing around in a tutu and leotard. You see, they used to say that to get rid of me or pick on me. "Hey kid- get outta here. Go twril around in a little pink tutu!" I would get so mad, and now, I was actually doing it!

These were my most demanding problems of the week, which I eagerly shared with my only true confidant: Eugene.

Eugene has wonderfully warm, and caring eyes. He is the kind of person who takes everything I say seriously as no one has done since my parents passed away. Eugene gives you the feeling of always being on your side and has a laugh as infectious as Two-bit. Eugene is the driver and now also helps out around the house. As nice as he was, he was dirt poor. I mean he was worse of than the Shepards. I had no reason to mind hanging around him though. As far as I was concerned, I still was a north-sider. This was other people's house, other people's stuff, and other people's lives. I was just temporarily staying here.

Whenever I thought I could get away with it, I liked to go into the kitchen and chat with Eugene while snacking on fruits. I learned to go to him for advice. When I told Eugene of the situation with my friends, he came up with the perfect plan. He said that I should concentrate on helping out my friends. He was right, as usual.

"How?" I wondered.

"Well, you say your friend Nelly is going to have to take a class on manners and being a lady?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Then, why don't you tell your mama that you don't like Ballet but would like to take ettiqute classes. Ain't no way she'd object to that child."

I grinned at his wisdom, but didn't interrupt.

"As for your friend Miles, don't you agree he'd like baseball if he just gave it a chance?"

I nodded slowly again, a bit puzzled.

"Why don't you and Nelly get him to put that book down a recess and drag him out on that field?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I thought I could see where he was going with this.

"I bet he wouldn't be so miserable if you just helped him learn all you guys know at recess. He wouldn't have be embarrassed and he'd do better. That'd make his parents happy. His parents being happy means he gets to play with you which makes you happy too." He grinned at his own solution.

"Eugene," I said.

"Yes ma'am?" he called me (even though I"ve told him not to a million times).

"You're brilliant." At this he threw back his head and laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. I threw him an odd look, grabbed an apple and went up-stairs.

**A/N: **_So, my main concern is what you guys thought of this chapter, Eugene (who is based on someone I once knew), and what you want to see happen next. I know there are a lot of questions and I'm going to answer them eventually, but it has to build up to that. A bit more action is planned for the next few chapters but please tell me what you want to see more of? Would more dialogue or specific incidents improve it? Suggestions welcome-PLEASE review! _

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	4. Forgotten

**Dsiclaimer:** The Outsiders is not mine and neither are these characters. Please don't sue.

_**A/N: **Thank you so much for reviewing! Many of you have already guessed at, or requested to see, someone from the gnag make an appearance. Well that time had fianlly come! Please hang in there with your questiosns, the answers will come! I noticed not as many of you reviewed so I made this chapter longer and put more in it than I would have liked. I even tried to up-date sooner. Yes, there's another new character but they just keep poping up. To my very vauled reviewer, K.L. Vern: I do carefully check each document for errors, but they tend to slip by even with my spell and grammar check. Thank you for pointing them out as it helps me from making the same mistake again. Hope it's improved. Enjoy!_

**Babygirl**

**Chapter 4**: Forgotten

I knew it was the right thing to do, but I just couldn't. Dad says-used to say- that's how you know it's the right thing, but I could not seem to bring myself to ask to quit ballet and take etiquette. I could yell and scream and kick Curly Shepard in a game of soccer; I could play a practical joke on Dallas Winston; I could face Darry with a detention; but I could not talk to a couple Socs! What was I turning into, a chicken? Two-Bit would have clucked at me. Then I couldn't do go talk to them because I was laughing at the image of Two-Bit clucking.

Nelly and I had tried helping Miles at recess to learn a few things about baseball, but all we succeed in doing was giving him a black eye that looked permanent. To help him avoid further humiliation we told his father, as politely as you please, that he was defending us from some older boys. That earned him a rare pat on the back. He smiled at us from the car. The next day his eye was still swollen so we figured if he couldn't catch the ball with two good eyes he wouldn't catch it with one. Instead, we sat down on some bleachers and drew on a notebook.

"Okay so here's the dugout, the pitcher's mound, home, the catcher, first, second, third and outfield. Those are the important parts of the field. The rest is pretty obvious: short-stop, left field, and all that you can figure out. Okay, now about the time..."

We explained it as best we could and because Miles was smart and had two experienced teachers we concluded that lesson was the most progress we'd had so far.

"Maybe if you play with a rubber ball, you know tossing it and such, your coordination will improve." I suggested. "My brother, Ponyboy, had an annoying habit of doing that when he was bored."

"You have a brother named Ponyboy?"

"Yeah." I answered.

"That's, um, an original name."

"Her name's Babygirl, brainless, did you really think her brothers would be Bob and Joe?" Nelly snapped.

"No. Of course not. I mean... I like it." He grinned apologetically.

"Me too." Nelly said. "I like your other brother's name better: Sodapop. I wish that was my name."

"Original, like Babygirl, but nice." Miles offered bashfully.

"Well, my dad was an original person..."

"Hang on, what's you other brother's name?" Nelly interrupted out of curiosity.

"Darrel, or Darry." I answered simply.

They looked at me for a while and Nelly cocked her head slightly.

"That's just weird." Just as I began to laugh hysterically, the school bell rang and we rushed inside for classes.

I couldn't help but notice many students looked distressed.

"Children." began Sister Treadwell, "I am sure all of you know what today is."

"Yes, sister Treadwell." we automatically chorused.

"Then when I call your name you will come up to the front of the room and receive your report card."

'Oh.' I thought. 'That's what today is.'

I listened intently for my name.

"Connor, Miles."

'Here it comes,' I thought. But I was mistaken. My name was not called. I blinked in surprise.

"Dank, Leroy."

"They missed me." I hissed to Nelly.

"What are you talking about? They haven't called you yet."

"But-"

"Shut up before we get in trouble."

I shut my mouth and thought about how annoyed I was with her bossy attitude. In fact, I was so annoyed that I stopped listening. Suddenly, I felt someone nudge me hard in the ribs.

"Ow!" Everyone turned to stare at me. I looked around, puzzled.

"Miss Densey?"

"Opps." Realization dawned. Unfortunately it dawned a little too late. A snigger seemed to spread around the room as a blush spread across my face.

"Yes. 'Opps' indeed." scolded sister Treadwell, but only half-heartedly. Eagerly, I scurried up to the front of the class and took my report card from her with a meager thank you.

As we waited on our rides in front of the school, I exchanged cards with Nelly and Miles. Well, Nelly wasn't actually waiting on a ride, but she stood with us everyday in spite of the fact it was breaking a rule (or maybe because it was). She leaned against a stop sign with a very Dallas Winston scowl. At that moment, I realized Nelly was tough enough to hang with our gang easy. She probably wouldn't even be afraid to meet Dally, and that was saying something. Then I imagined what it would be like if Miles met Dally. I bit back a laugh at the image of him shaking in his high waters looking up with his most bashful expression through his dorky glasses. Looking down at the card before me I forgot the images and smiled.

Nelly, who was by no means stupid but lacked interest, had improved in all her classes. I wanted to say well done, but knew she'd take it as an insult. So instead I offered: "That'll get you out of some trouble for a while." I tried to scoff. She actually did scoff.

"What trouble?" she said rolling her eyes and folding her arms.

"Switch." I said, and we did. Now I was looking at Miles' card. Wow. He blew Pony out of the water, and that was the smartest person I knew.

"Miles! Kid, you didn't tell us you were a genius!"

"I'm not." he replied quickly and louder than usual but I wasn't sure if it was because of indignation or the banging of hammers repairing the roof behind us. Nelly snorted in response.

"Yeah. Of course you're not. You're practicably retarded... and I'm a lady." We laughed and Miles blushed.

"Miles," I said resting a hand on his shoulder as Soda might have done to me. I attempted to copy his speech I'd heard him give Pony. "Don't be so embarrassed. You're very intelligent, be proud. I wish I was that smart. People who say negative things about it are just jealous that what comes easy to you comes hard to them. Mark Scruto is an awesome baseball player, but makes ruddy grades. He wouldn't hang his head about his ball playing skills and you shouldn't about your grades. Hey, that reminds me, could you tutor me in math?"

Miles' eyes had brightened and his blush had darkened, but he nodded in agreement and handed me back my card. His father was honking the horn. I waved bye while Nelly saluted. Curious, I looked for our car-darn it!- I mean Milly and Eugene in the Cadillac. Oddly, there was no sign of them. In spite of myself, I began to get nervous.

When mom and dad had not arrived to pick me up I knew something was wrong... Ever since, if Pony was late I went into a panic. I knew better, but it still happened. Luckily, only my brothers knew about this and they kept it a secret. It was the only time I really showed I was afraid, so it was acceptable I guess. I looked around anxiously and saw Nelly was already walking away.

"Nelly!" I called.

"Yeah?"

"Hang around a while?"

"Scared?"

"No!"

"Relax I was just kidding. Got left, huh?"

"Hmm."

"It's okay, I've been forgotten loads of times." For some reason I felt a sting of anger.

"I wasn't forgotten."

"What do you mean? Ain't no one here is there? That means you were forgotten. It happens when no one cares." Now I was mad.

"People care about me!"

"Yeah. That's right, your new parents just love you, don't they?"

I shook my head. Why was she yelling? I sure didn't do anything. "No, but my brothers do."

"Sure. They're here, huh?"

"Well, no..."

"You think they haven't forgot about you yet?" I was so shocked and hurt I didn't know what to say. Her face wasn't even sorry it just looked so...smug.

"You know what Nelly?" I took a step forward, but so did she.

"What?"

"Forget you."

I walked away to behind the building the men were working on. I sat down of the grass and hugged my knees to my chest breathing heavily from anger and panic. I tried to concentrate on the tapping and thudding of hammers to calm myself with the rythum but worries kept seeping into my head.

_What if I'm left here?_

Bang. Bang.

_What if she's right?_

Bang.

_What if my brother's don't remember me?_

Bing. Bang. Bing.

_What is she's not my friend anymore?_

Whack! WHACK!

_What if I'm supposed to be somewhere else and forgot?_

WHAM!

_I can't breathe._

_I can't breathe._

_What if I die back here and no one knows..._

Whack! Bang. Bang. Bang.

'What is wrong with that idiot roofer? It sounds like he's trying to beat something to death.' I looked up out of frustration and curiosity to the man randomly assaulting the roof. I gasped.

I took in my breath deep to yell out his name, but Darry held a finger to his lips. He climbed down the ladder silently and looked at me oddly. I didn't care what he was thinking or if he missed me at all. I was so happy he remembered me I ran to him and hugged him like there was no tomorrow. It probably wasn't comfortable on his back to be squeezed like that, but if it hurt he sure didn't say anything.

"Hey, Baby. How you doing?" he asked in a choked voice.

I tired to tell him "terrible". I tried to tell him I hated pink and dresses. I tried to explain I had no friends. I tried to tell him I wanted chocolate cake for breakfast. I tried to tell him I missed him and wasn't going to let go no matter what happened so don't even try. I tried to, but nothing came out. Nothing.

A cough behind me brought us back to earth and our reunion to and end. There was sister Treadwell, eyes narrowed and hands planted firmly on hips.

"Babygirl," she said softly and I registered that she used my first name with a bit of surprise. Was she on my side? "Eugene is waiting for you. Release Darrel and go." Before I could protest Darry straightened and pried my hands off his neck. He wasn't stopping her from making me leave. He was _telling_ me to leave. So I did. I ran. I ran to Eugene waiting alone in the car and slammed the door, not looking behind me no matter how much I wanted to see Darry again.

_**A/N:** Please tell me what you thought! I do know basically where this is going but am open to any and all suggestions and ideas. Just let me know how I'm doing and if you liked it and I'll up-date soon! Thanks you so much!_


	5. Not All That Bad

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Outsiders. I make no money off of these fanfictions. 

_**A/N:** First and foremost, I would like to kindly thank all of my wonderful reviewers Your comments are always both helpful as well as inspiring. I hope this chapter meets your expectations and, for those of you wondering, I have finished an outline for this story. In other words I know where its going. I'm still open to suggestions and requests though, so share if you have any ideas or questions. Thank you for waiting. I tried to post this yesterday but there was a stupid error! This week is going to be busy, but I'll do my best to up-date soon for you guys. Enjoy and remember to leave a review, please!_

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 5: Not All That Bad**

"Everything all right, Baby?"

"Yes." I lied as I stared intently out the window, seeing nothing.

"Had a little bit a trouble back there?" He ventured.

"Everything's fine, Eugene." I said more clearly, wiping a few tears from my cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Of course it is." He played along, having no idea how much it meant to me.

"Where is Milly?" I asked more to change the subject than out of concern.

"She said she wants me to drop you off at your ballet lesson and pick you up."

"I hate ballet, Eugene."

"Why?"

"I just do. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Sure, sure. I hate salmon, no real reason I just never did care for it."

"Anyway, will you drop me off at the jail instead

"No. I'm afraid I can't do that." I laughed weakly at his serious tone. "_That_ I can't do." He added again under his breath.

I slumped down in the seat and refused to meet his eyes in the rear view mirror. I let the tears spill down my face only because I couldn't help it, but I refused to make a sound. The knot in my throat was so tight I felt it may break.

For a while, we just drove all over town until finally we had apparently reached our destination and he stopped. Only, this wasn't our destination. We were before a house very familiar to me, but one I had not seen in so long it took me a moment to be sure and then another moment to allow myself to believe it. This was Emily's house!

I had missed our afternoons together so much. The way thing used to be I would go straight here or she would come home with me as her mom was always at work. Then, we headed to the lot to play ball. Without me there I doubted she was still playing, or at least not nearly as often. After all, she had been there more to watch Sam than train for the World Series. I wondered about her now more than I had in the weeks before. Back when my life had been very different, we had promised to be best friends forever, no matter what. What if she had moved on and found other best friends? I had found Nelly and Miles. We weren't as close, but we were still friends. I hadn't been allowed to contact her. What if she thought I abandoned her? I knew what _that_ felt like and it wasn't pretty.

I stopped my musings as I saw Eugene's face.

"Go on, doll."

"Eugene..."

"Yes."

"You... Can't you get into trouble for this?"

"I don't see how as you won't be going back to ballet lessons after today. You've got 2 hours. Make the most of it." he winked.

"You're the best." I ran out of the car and right up to the door.

"Miss?"

"Yes?"

"One condition,"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go see or talk to your brothers. I know it's tempting, but that just not something any of us or them can afford right now, understand?"

"But why-"

"Why don't matter. Just leave them be for today or go home."

"Alright, Eugene. See you later. Bye." He drove off. I knocked on the door, nervous for the first time on this porch, and saw my friend's red hair coming from their kitchen. She swung open the doors and her brown eyes got huge.

"Baby?"

"Hey Emily. Want to play?" I answered, a little unsure. She tackled me into a giant hug and we rolled down her front porch stairs. It hurt, but I was so happy to see her happy to see me that I didn't even mind.

"Babygirl Curits where the heck have you been?"

"The south side."

"You poor thing!" she joked. I love that attitude she has, just like her brother.

"Where's your brother?"

"At your brother's house, as usual. Hey! You want to go tag along with Johnny and Pony?"

"No."

"No?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I want to but we can't be seen here. Can we play in your room, or out back? I'll explain everything."

"Sure."

Heading inside, we cautiously shut the door behind us and headed to the kitchen where Emily had already made a snack. It was peanut butter and jelly. I smiled when she handed my hers and made another. It sure was a comfort knowing that some things never changed. If I had a dollar for every time Emily had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich I'd be rich enough to buy Milly's Cadillac.

"So," She began with that mouthful of peanut butter talk that I had learned to understand a long time ago. "What's up on the south side?"

So I told everything, as best friends tend to do. She interjected at all the right places with all the right comments, as best friends do. She too thought Nelly sounded pretty tuff and that Miles was nice. She wanted to know if there were any cute Socs. She liked the car too, and, of course, she understood how I felt about the whole mess. When we finished talking about me and the south side, I realized I only had an hour left. I felt a sick knot of that anxiousness and dread of the moment Eugene would show up. I asked her what had been happening here. She dropped her cookie.

"You mean," she gulped. "You haven't heard?"

"Uh...no?"

"Okay. Sit down." She then proceeded to tell me all that had been going on here and man was there a lot of gossip to catch up on. Apparently, Dallas Winston was getting out of the cooler early and Johnny had been beat up really bad by some Socs. Really bad. I grimaced as she described his broken and bloodied face. She said he had actually cried and that he couldn't even move or call for help when they found him.

"My God. Poor little ol' Johhny." Even though he was bigger than us, and tougher, it had always seemed fitting to call Johnny little.

"Yeah. Word around town is whoever was responsible is about to get pounded by none other than the great and powerful Dally. Oh- and there's something terrible-"

"What?!" I demanded.

Outside came a beep beep.

"Sam is dating, horror of horrors, Sadie!"

"Oh no." I groaned.

"Guess you gotta go, huh?" grumbled a downtrodden looking Emily. I had not seen this discouraged side of her before and didn't really want to.

"I'll be back." I offered, reassuringly. In return, she flashed me a Soda-rivaling grin.

"Great." She said simply. I scribbled down my number on piece of paper and told her to call in an emergency. Otherwise, I'd be back next week.

Briefly, I thought of running away and hiding out with Emily, but only briefly. Instead, I gave her a slight hug and raced outside; reluctant to leave, but happy that we were still friends. Besides, I didn't want to bother Eugene, who had been nice enough to do this for me. I reminded myself, ducking down to avoid being seen in Emily's yard, to pay him back.

Once back on the south side, I let out a low sigh and went to clean up before joining the dinner table.

"How was your day?" asked John, the man of the house. I still wasn't sure how to answer that question.

"Alright." I tried. That seemed to suffice, as usual. Nervously I coughed. "I do have something I'd like to ask you though." At this, everyone's ears perked up like cocker spaniels. I wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or bad.

Then John, looking pretty nervous himself, asked: "What is that?"

Sucking up my courage I answered: "I"d like to quit ballet." If I wasn't mistaken, he breathed a slight sigh of relief. What was he thinking I'd ask for?

Milly, on the other hand, was outraged-to say the least.

"Absolutely not! That is a cultured and enjoyable class for a young lady."

At the words 'enjoyable' I let out a low snort. I couldn't help it- it just slipped out. John almost smiled, I think. Before Milly could continue her tirade, he interjected with: "I'll think about it." I was surprise to find Milly had fallen silent. She was glowering at me, but not arguing the point further.

"I could take etiquette or something." I offered, following Eugene's master plan.

"You must be desperate." He was sure in good mood today.

" There's a class at the school."

"Speaking of school," he raise an eyebrow. "Anything interesting about today?"

'Oh God,' I thought, 'he knows about Darry!' I had thought sister Treadwell was on my side, but she had tattled.

"Um..." I stuttered.

"Let's see it." he said, putting down his napkin and fork.

"See what?" I asked, truly puzzled.

"Don't play games with me, young lady. You know very well I want to see the report card you received today."

"Oh." I breathed a sigh of relief. Not for long. Worry soon came on in new waves. Did Socs expect even better grades from their kids than Darry? I handed it over nonetheless. His eyes scanned it closely, held it up to the light, and stared some more.

"Very well done." he said. He sounded surprised. Maybe I'd done better than even Socs expected. Or maybe he expected greasers to all be stupid. I didn't care. He was actually smiling.

"I think this deserves a reward. What would you like for dessert?"

"Chocolate cake." I said immediately.

He laughed. "Chocolate cake it is."

I stood there awkwardly for a moment unsure of what to do with myself. Did he want a hug? Did I?

"Now about this ballet business," he leaned forward seriously. "You really hate it?"

"Yes." I sighed desperately.

"Well, I don't see a problem with etiquette classes, do you Milly?"

"Of course not." smiled Milly with that false cheer I hated so much. Suddenly, I really missed my mom. If I had to hug someone in this room it would have to be John. So, I reached forward quickly wrapped my arms around him tight, and gave him a slight squeeze. Surprisingly, he returned it.

Lying in my bed that night, full of chocolate cake I thought about my very long, very strange day. All in all, it had been a day of twists and turns and unexpected surprises around every corner. It had been a day of revelations and retrospect. It had been a day of returning to old places and turning over new leaves. All in all, it hadn't been**_ that_** bad.

_**A/N:** I hope this chapter was long enough for you! I was a little worried about this one. To be honest it's not my favorite but the plot is about to thicken quite a bit so even if it wasn't your favorite, please continue to read. As always, reviews are VERY appreciated! Thanks for reading!_


	6. The Only Thing?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or make any profit from, the Outsiders.

_**A/N:** Thanks for all your REVIEWS! BTW, some of you want to see more of Darry and those guys. I am writting this in only first person from Babygirl's p.o.v. for a reason and you can't see them if she can't, sorry. However, there will be a lot more of them soon. There will probably be about 7 more chapters and an epilogue. I won't be skipping far ahead in time, but there may be a sequel. This is going on roughyl parallel with the book. So far, Johnny's been beat up, but hasn't killed the Soc. It will be hinted at or explained and somethings after that part will be changed. Well, now that's answered: enjoy the new chapter! I'm really proud of this one so please let me know what you think._

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person."_

**Chapter 6:** The Only Thing?

The next day dawned familiar and boring. Milly was unwell and John busy and gruff as usual, so Eugene drove me to school alone. I didn't mind. All the while, I was secretly planning a way to payback Eugene for his kindest favor towards me yet. I didn't make much progress.

Once I arrived, I was looking forward to telling Nelly that, this afternoon, I would be accompanying her to etiquette classes. She took the news rather well.

"Oh yeah? Well, we can both suffer I guess." While she didn't show her excitement, I knew how much she appreciated it.

"You're welcome." I mumbled rolling my eyes, but not really bothered.

At lunch, the incessant tip-tapping of Miles' fingers on the table was driving me slowly crazy. Just as I register that was what was making me grind my teeth ( a habit both my mother and Darry had scolded me about as incessantly as the tapping), Nelly snapped. In frustration, she grabbed his hand and slammed it down on the table. He looked up, eyebrows raised passed his hair line and eyes unnaturally wide. She greeted his shocked expression with a look of utter... well, I'd call it ticked off-ness. Snickering could be heard around us in the several decibels quieter cafeteria, and Miles grew politely red. Nelly smirked, as smug as ever. I watched the scene with only mild interest, until I overheard one of the whispers floating around the lunchroom.

"Pss...pss...holding hand..hehe." I blinked hard and looked down at the table. Miles wasn't blushing because Nelly had fazed him, he was blushing because she was practically holding his hand. I nudged her and glanced at their almost intertwined fingers. She started in realization and let go so fast her hand was a blur. If it had happened to me I would have run out of their so fast it'd have made their heads spin! Nelly didn't budge though. When the murmurs and giggles really began to annoy her it was clear; partly from her expression and partly from her announcement:

"What the heck do you think you're looking at? Fix your eyes on something else or I'll fix them for you!"

"Eleanor!" yelled sister Treadwell.

"Eleanor?" Miles and I asked in unison. Nelly threw us a threatening glance before leaving the table and going towards sister Treadwell.

"Are those classes doing you no good, child?" the sister asked, her patience at it's end. She was one that couldn't be fooled of Nelly's real nature.

After just a moment of thought, Nelly innocently said: "No, not really." I couldn't help but notice that she looked a little proud. It was like, even though it may not be best, she was proud that no one could change who she was. For some reason, this pulled my insides into a knot. I wondered why for a second, but not for long because I was totally distracted by the loud, resounding WHAM!

I have to admit, I was impressed that Nelly didn't tear up, whimper, or even flinch at being smacked with that strap. She was tough. She was determined to stay tough too. That's when what had been bothering me came slinking back in like a muddy dog: was I?

"What are you so nervous about?" I threw at Miles, hoping it would distract me.

"Game." Was all he said. I nodded in understanding. First games were nerve-wracking things. Then, I remembered that was all he had said all day.

"Good luck." I offered. He nodded and gulped. Geez, this kid was a scardy-cat. But what was I? A Soc? It was my turn to gulp. Never.

Etiquette classes made me fell much less civilized. I couldn't remember my silverware, and didn't honestly care to. As for the ballroom dancing, it was an awful failure as well. I was paired with a wheezing, stumbling Soc named Winston while Nelly drug poor, and good looking, Mark Scruto, around that dance floor like she was trying to mop it up with him. The sister in charge kept scolding her for not letting the gentleman lead.

"Sorry," Winston offered for about the millionth time.

"It's okay Winston." I sighed, for about the millionth time. All of the sudden, Nelly came swinging over and Mark slammed into me. I lost my balance and hit the floor.

"Oh man. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" I opened my eyes and shook my head a little to clear my vision. Looking down expectantly, with his face just inches from my own, was none other than Mark Scruto.

"Fine." I breathed.

"What were you thinking? Are you trying to kill someone?" Nelly was being chastised by the sister again, this time for my attempted murder. "Here Nelly, you are with Winston and you two-" she pointed at Mark and I, "dance together." she ordered. I blinked, not daring to believe. My stomach tingled and my legs wouldn't work.

"Can you get up?" Mark asked.

"What? Oh, yeah." But I made no move, unless you count my eyes which were moving quite a bit.

"Here, let me help you." He pulled me up and kept a hold on my hand. Then his other hand went lightly on my waist. I tried to hold back grin. He flashed me one that told me I had failed.. It was such a sweet smile, like Soda's. Then, I realized that if Soda or Darry knew I was this close to a boy and his hand was on my waist they would flip!

All the same, I danced with the Soc, not thinking of anything. Actually, I was just trying to keep up with the waltz: one, two, three, one, two, three. He was a good dancer. Who would have thought a baseball player could waltz? I would have felt awkward not speaking, if we hadn't been forbidden to talk. Looking over his shoulder I spied Nelly and Winston, expecting scowling and stumbling. However, Winston was doing much better with Nelly leading, and she was smiling at me. She winked and I cocked my head, not understanding.

"You're welcome." she mouthed, and I grinned wide. What a friend! She had done that on purpose.

"Thanks." I said.

"For what?" Mark asked.

"Huh? Oh nothing. Helping me up, I guess." He squinted at me, probably trying to decide if I was nuts or not.

"No problem."

After classes, I invited Nelly over in her dress clothes for dinner. Milly had suggested bringing other children over. I'm sure she meant Soc kids, but Nelly was dressed nice for our class and she'd never know the difference, I hoped. We had to take the bus because Eugene was late and I had to be on time for dinner.

As we arrived at the door I saw John's car was home already. That's weird.

"Wow. This is were you live?" Nelly asked.

"For now anyway." I said. I headed up to the side door that led into the kitchen. I wanted Nelly to meet Eugene first. As I reached forward to open the door, a disgruntled looking Eugene swung it open.

"Baby?"

"Yeah." I said, wondering why he looked so surprised to see me. He glanced over his shoulder. There was noise coming from inside.

"Wait here a minute." Then, without waiting for an answer, he shut the door.

"So," began Nelly in a casual tone, "You get locked out of your own house often?"

"Ha-ha Two-Bit." I scoffed.

"Two-Bit?"

"My friend Emily's brother."

"She's got a brother named Two-Bit? Is this some north side thing? Does everyone have brothers with weird names?"

"Well, his name's Keith, but everyone calls him that because he always gets his two-bits worth in Actually, it's usually more than that."

"Cool. You think your gang could give me a tuff name like that?"

"Maybe," I said, moving the trash can.

"What are you doing?" She asked. I climbed on top and tried to peek in the window. Nelly coughed and I jumped down.

Eugene stood at the door with a rare frown. "Here," he offered, handing me several dollars. "Your daddy said to take this to a ball game or something and get something to eat for you and your friend while you're there. Stay on the south side Baby."

"A ball game? What'd Milly have to say about this?"

"She didn't have nothing to say." he sort of spat.

"Go on now, girl. Don't be going over to the north side or anywhere other than the ball game."

"Alright!" I said enthusiastically. He didn't have to worry. There was practically no where else I'd rather be, except home of course, but my brothers may show up, or Emily, or my old team. At last-a baseball game! This was going to be great.

We ran almost the whole way there. After paying admission, we hit up the concession stand and spent practically everything I had in a few minutes. Carrying the loads of food and about 3 sodas, we tried to find a seat where we could spy on Miles in the dugout. Tons of people were there. I wondered why teenagers would bother themselves with a little league game, that is until I saw the opposing team.

There was Sam, walking on to the pitchers mound. One side of the stands rose in cheers and applause. I spied Emily's red hair among them from a yards away. Her brother and mine were no where to be seen. I was going to call her over here, but then realized that I was sitting on the Soc side. What was going on? Suddenly, I was torn. Soc side on the left, Greaser on the right. Where was I supposed to sit? I could go to where I belonged with Emily and Nelly would follow, but poor Miles would be abandoned. Maybe we could get away before he noticed. Just then I heard Nelly let out a low hiss.

"Pst! Miles!" He turned around looking rather pale, and smiled weakly. Great. Now we were stuck. I pinched Nelly.

"Ouch! What?"

"That's my old team. Who do I cheer for?"

"Your old team and Miles."

"That's kinda weird."

"So? You're an original person."

"I am?"

She rolled her eyes.

"But where do we sit." She thought about it for a second.

"Follow me." We went around back behind the concession building and Nelly began stacking up crates that Coke bottles come in. Then we climbed to the top and sat on the roof. From there, the view was great. We could see everything, but no one noticed us.

The north side won, of course. Miles didn't strike out, so that wasn't too bad. No one spotted me, so that was good. When we walked back, I dropped Nelly at the bus stop that would head to the church and I headed back to the south side. As I was walking, the sun was leaving its last rays of color smeared across the sky. I thought about Ponyboy and what he had once said about Darry.

The only thing that kept Darry from being a Soc was us.

Could it be that the only thing keeping me from being a Soc was them?

_**A/N:** Did any of you guess who Emily was? Look out because in each chapter I hint and foreshadow at what's coming up next. There was a lot of important stuff in this one. Thanks SO MUCH for reading. Let me know what you thought, please!_


	7. The Truth

**Disclaimer:**The Outiders is not mine. Its a shame, but true. Very true.

_ **A/N:** Was anyone surprised to find that Emily was Two-Bit's sister mentioned in the book? I'm glad you liked the chapter! thanks for reviewing, as always. As for the question question regaurding John, what he's really like is up to you to decide! It makes me GRIN! This one is important as well. Pay attention for hints!_

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person."_

**Chapter 7:** The Truth

My chance to payback Eugene came a days later. I was in the kitchen, and Milly was trying to teach me how to bake cupcakes. I knew how to bake cake, but this was new. It could have been fun; it _should _have been fun; but it wasn't. While getting bored with miss perfect, I noticed Eugene slide a few coins off the counter top. Then he put them in his pocket. I said nothing. It wasn't my money. Besides it was only a few cents, they'd never miss it. While Darry may have warned me not to steal, I knew plenty of people that did (like Two-Bit) and knew that with us from the south side sometimes you needed to. That may pay for his grandkid's lunch or some milk for his neice's newest baby.

Milly turned around and asked me to help clean up, so I began wiping down the counter. A few moments later John came in and sort of gave a weary smile. He watched us for a minute and then got his keys and reached for the counter. He stopped dead. I hoped he wasn't looking for the change.

"Where is that change that I put down earlier?" Darn.

"What dear?" asked a happy sounding Milly.

"The change on the counter, where is it?"

"I don't remember any change, do you honey?" That was directed at me. Weird, I know. She was in a good mood. I risked a glance at Eugene who looked like he may drop dead at any instant.

"I, erm, may have accidentally knocked it into the trash cleaning off the counter." I hung my head so he wouldn't see my face. I'm no better a liar than Ponyboy. "Sorry." I added trying to look extra pitiful. "I can get it out if you want."

"No." said Milly quickly. "I'm sure you have money with you John, no need to dig through the trash. This isn't the other side of the tracks after all."

Well, my plan had worked but I was so angry with that old hag over that comment I just wanted to punch her right on the nose. Bop!

"Try not to be so careless." John sighed. Geez. He left. I felt pretty crumby, but at least I had paid back Eugene.

The next day was a day I got to go to Emily's house. Eugene dropped me off a little ways away so it didn't look suspicious. The only problem was, when I got there no one was there. She must be out somewhere, I thought. Well, what on earth would I do now?

I strolled down the alley and slunk around like I was on a great spy movie. Coming out of a day dream made for the movies, I was surprised to find myself before my old backyard. It wasn't odd, not really. I had walked these street thousands of times and ended up, without thinking, exactly where I intended to be. No one was there and, although that made my heart fall a peg or two, I happily realized that going back inside my home would not actually qualify as breaking my word to Eugene. After looking around nervously, I hopped the fence. It's strange to think, even now, that I had been that close all along. It had felt worlds away. Even though I had started the morning on the south side,-just like that- I was home!

Not a thing about the yard had changed. I ventured around, noticing Darry's truck gone, and went in the front door cautiously.

I walked from room to room seeing that the t.v. was left on, and Mickey Mouse was golfing with Pluto. On the kitchen table was a messy plate where chocolate cake had been. Now there were just crumbs and smeared icing. Next to it was a map, which was odd. Even stranger still, was that it was open to a page reading: "Texas". Mom and Dad's picture was still in place, still smiling, with just a little dust around the edges. The fridge was pretty bare, except the necessities of eggs and beer. Towels were on the bathroom floor, the mirror still fogged up from the door being left shut, and the toilet seat was, of course, up. The beds were neatly made. I saw that now there was room for everyone to have their own rooms since Darry took mom and dad's room and the other would have taken mine.

Not wanting to see if my room was changed, I sat myself down on the couch that smelled like cigarettes and my brothers and watched good Ol' Mickey. For the first time, I thought about how life had changed for them. The truth was not pretty- specifically for me. This way of living took less money and less trouble, while they had more room and less responsibilities. Maybe they didn't fight for me for a reason. Maybe they are better off without me. Suddenly, I found myself hating being in my own home. I don't know if you've ever felt that way, but it's a terrible feeling. In fact, it makes you kind of scared. It's like: "If I don't belong here, where can I belong? Anywhere?" It gives you the feeling like you're in a nightmare running without direction when you need a place to hide from the monster at your heels.

I went into Pony's room where I used to go if I had nightmares. Pictures of Elvis and Paul Newman were taped to the wall. There were some drawings on his desk, mostly of sunsets and a dangerous looking Dally by the looks of it. His usual mess of clothes was no where in sight.

That's when I jumped at hearing the front door slam behind somebody. There were voices and commotion coming from the body of the house. It sounded like the whole gang was there. I bravely risked poking my head around the corner for just a second. Stupid, I know, but sometimes you can't even pretend to resist temptation.

Darry looked like he was arguing with Dally in the kitchen. Steve and Soda were throwing their DX clothes around and kicking off their shoes. I ducked as one nearly hit me. Two-Bit was sitting where I had been only seconds ago, watching mickey and reading something that I couldn't see. Ponyboy and Johnny were no where in sight.

I don't know what I could have been expecting that I was disappointed not to find. I thought they might show some sign of missing me. I hoped things might be different. I was wrong. They looked normal. How can they be normal? Can I be normal?

Then I thought, why would they miss me? I was always in the way, I recalled resentfully. I was always a bother or worry. It seemed, not being able to always wear boys hand-me-downs, that I had costed the most money. I was girl, and girls weren't tough enough to look after themselves. More room. More money. More freedom. I leapt out of Pony or Soda's room window and ran all the way back across town.

I should say I tried to run all the way back, but I got lost. Tulsa is a big city and I'm only a kid. That became real clear as the sun began to set. Walking up main street, I noticed a black Lincoln pull up beside me. An angry looking John had rolled down the window and demanded that I get in. Needless to say, I did.

He then proceeded to yell: "What in God's name do you think you were doing?"

"Sorry. I went to spy on my brothers and..."

"Your brothers? Babygirl, you know you're not supposed to go to your brothers!" he snapped.

"I wasn't gonna talk to em'. I just wanted to see them."

"Well, like what you saw?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"They're okay. They're doing ...well, better without me."

"Well, I didn't want to tell you but that's the way it is. Your brothers couldn't afford you. We want you all separated for the good of you and them. This is the court's decision. We take you in, out the Christian kindness of our hearts, and you repay us by running around town alone where you could get killed?"

"I wouldn't have gotten killed!" I knew I wasn't in the position to argue, but that comment really irked me.

"It's not safe!" John was practically hysterical. I just didn't understand. My eyes burned and watered.

"Look!" he shouted. "Look at this!" he threw a paper into my lap and I held it up and read the big print. There was a picture of Johnny and my brother, Ponyboy. Above was the headline: "Soc Gets Greased."

It was terrible. Some kid soc, Bob, had been stabbed in the park and Pony and Johnny ran off. They were prime suspects.

"You think your brothers are different from those other delinquents just because they're nice to you? Do you think they can protect you on this side of town? They can't. They let you go. Return the favor!" he finished.

I turned away. I was furious with my family, with John, with myself, with everyone. I hated the whole world like I hated the hot tears pouring down my chapped face, but could stop neither.

_**A/N: **So do you believe John's version of the truth? Want to know what happened to get her to the south side? Review and I'll tell you! Thanks for reading!_


	8. Eugene

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Outsiders. It sucks.

_**A/N:** Thanks again for all the reviews! This chapter explaina a lot-at last, so enjoy! Sorry for the puntuation errors, but I am trying harder. As for the title, someone (a wonderful and faithful reviewer) pointed out that as Pony said in the book that adults were not familiar with the terms "greaser "and "Soc" the headline wouldn't read that way. I just took that headline from the movie scene where Dally is talking to them about it in the church. Maybe it wasn't literal. Aw well. It great you pay attention!_

Babygirl

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

Chapter 8: Eugene

I had once decided that if I were Nelly, I wouldn't want to be adopted. I had said that if no one wanted me, I wouldn't want them either. So if my brothers did not want to come and get me, then I just wouldn't want them either.

Some things still bothered me though. Why did Darry risk getting in trouble just to see me if he didn't care? Why did he look sorry and so glad to see me? The other thing bothering me was the map on the table. Were they moving to Texas? Would I ever see them again? Was Pony really a killer? Part of me said no, but the other part asked if I really knew them at all. All in all, it was a pretty miserable week.

As is Curtis law, it only got worse. It all started when I told Miles he did well in the game. He said, more than a little red, that his father had said so too.

"I bet your mom was proud."

Nelly looked at me like she was gonna kill me. Miles didn't answer.

"What?" I asked, oblivious. "She doesn't like baseball?"

"I don't really know. She left home when I was four." Miles looked so miserable that I wanted to melt into the sidewalk right there.

"Miles, I"m so sorry. I wouldn't have mentioned, but I didn't know."

"That's okay." he said. My God, poor Miles. "We got creamed anyway." he changed the subject back.

"Only because you were playing against Sam and you didn't have Mark. Where was he?"

"I dunno. Sick, I think."

The rest of the day went without me making a complete fool of myself again. Nelly and I mainly argued over who was cuter: Sam or Mark. Nelly agreed with Emily that it was Sam but I thought it was Mark.

Later that same evening, a week after the incident at the house, I was sitting in the kitchen sighing heavily.

"What's on your mind, little one?" Eugene asked, handing me an orange slice. I didn't want to talk about. I really didn't. But, sometimes, when you have to much inside and someone pokes you all your stuff come pouring out and you are powerless to stop it. Thank god it was Eugene I had spilled it to. I told him everything and ended with: "My brother's like a killer that doesn't want me and I'm gonna turn into a Soc and-"

"Hold it. That's what Mr. John told you?"

"Yes." I answered simply.

"Let me tell you the truth about this mess, or some of it at least. Now, sit down and shut you mouth for a few minutes." I did.

"When you parents died, Miss Milly heard about the tragedy in the paper, you know, and decided it was her Christian duty to take you in. She told the police so, and they offered to take you away, but your brother wouldn't have anything to do with it."

"How did you-?"

" Now, I heard all this going on and saw some of it with my own eyes. I've been working here 20 years, and I know those two like I know this kitchen and that drive from town to this house. Now don't interrupt."

"Anyway, she persisted and Mr. John went to your brother and offered him some money to help out with the finances, promising you'd have the kind of future for you that he'd wanted for himself. But your brother told him no. Well, you can imagine, with things not going her way Miss Milly was pretty upset. So John figured a way for them to gain custody. Now, Mr John really ain't a bad man so don't you go thinking I said that. He thought what he was doing really was best for everybody I guess. Plenty of folks thought it was best for your brothers and best for you. It's just that he hoped this might cheer Miss Milly up and John's been trying to fix her for years."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Well," Here he hesitated and answered in a lower voice, "She has some good days and some bad. A few days ago, when you went to the ball game, that was real bad one."

I was confused. Didn't everyone have good days and bad. I knew I did. Maybe it was a greaser thing. I didn't interrupt to ask though because this was getting interesting.

" He felt a child in the house might, well, might kinda help her be happy with him again. So, he called the his friends in the police department. Then your oldest brother, Darry, got a call to come pick up Soda from the station. Well, he wasn't there of course, but what he didn't know was that meanwhile DSS had arrived at the house and found Two-Bit passed out drunk on your couch, no other adult home, no food other than cake, eggs and beer, and you were curled up in bed with your brother Pony as usual. Well, they took all that to court and when the custody was taken from Darry, Milly and John Densey kindly stepped in and took guardianship. In order as to not confuse you, the court ruled that your brothers couldn't contact you."

I openly gaped.

"As for you brother being a murder, well, he's nothing of the sort. Look here." He handed me another newspaper with Dally, Johnny, and Pony on the front with the heading: "Juvenile Delinquents Turn Hero." I read the whole thing, top to bottom, at top speed.

"Pony's a hero?"

"Wouldn't you know it?" Eugene smiled big. It was nothing like Soda's, but I loved it.

"Eugene how did you know about my brothers?"

"I knew your mother."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I worked with her for a while."

"Where?"

"Here." I gaped yet again.

"You know they're thinking about taking Soda and Pony away too?"

"They won't do that to a hero."

"Johnny's hurt bad."

"He'll be okay. Heard he may not walk again, but he'll live I bet."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. I just gotta feeling." I smiled too and gave him my biggest hug ever. I didn't even care if I looked tough or not. I was, for the first time really since coming to the south side, happy. For some reason, I felt a rock in my throat and I felt like saying something I hadn't said since my parents died.

"I love you, Eugene."

"Oh darlin'...Good. You're far too young to hate the world" A few minutes later I had composed myself and so had Eugene. Now, he was gentleman. As I turned to leave, orange in hand, Eugene went on.

"As for you being a greaser or a Soc..."

"Yeah?" I looked up expectantly.

"I can tell by looking at you, you aren't a Soc. Even if you wear pink dresses and go to preppy schools you have the blood of a rebel in you. You will always be a Curtis and a north side kid. But remember, all greasers ain't the same ans Socs ain't neither."

"You think Milly's trying to change me into a Soc?"

"No. I know she is."

"Don't you think that's wrong?"

"All kinds of wrong."

"Then why do you tell me to do as she says?" He frowned and took a few second to think that one over.

"Its best to let her think its going her way, even if it ain't."

I nodded, but not comprehending. One thing was still bothering me. "Eugene?"

"Huh?"

"How do I know what I am for sure what I'm supposed to be?"

"When the time comes, you'll show it. Now go to bed before you get us both in trouble."

The next day I was in a much better mood. Nelly was no longer angry and Miles was no longer down. Mark was back in school. It was a nice day actually. I just kept thinking about what Eugene said, so much so that I almost missed the whispers around the cafeteria and play yard. They were talking about me and my brother, but I didn't care. I listened to Ivanhoe and played catch and studied like I should.

After school, I waited for Eugene to come and pick me up. He didn't show. I sat on the sidewalk and waited. I didn't ask Nelly to stay because I was determined to stay tough, but she stayed anyway because she was a good friend. A little later, the car pulled up.

"See ya'." said Nelly.

"Bye."

I walked to the car and felt my gut sink as I came closer. Milly had pulled up in the Cadillac, driving! My eyes just about popped out of my head. She looked like she was wearing a lot of make-up. She must have wanted to look nice-and would have too- but it was thrown off by the bandaged hand on the steering wheel. She must have cut herself in the kitchen. Funny though, I couldn't remember her doing cooking apart from baking. I was a little hesitant to get in as I had never seen her drive.

"Get it." she commanded.

"Where's Eugene? Vacation?"

"No," answered Milly mildly, "He had a heart attack."

_**A/N: **I know, I know I'm evil with the cliff hangers, but please review anyway. It really makes me happy! I won't be posting the next chapter for a few days because I'll be gone on a trip and the next night I have a soccer game, so I appologise for the delay in advance. Please look out for up-dates soon after that though. Thanks for reading!_


	9. Rough All Over

**Disclaimer:** I don't own The Outsiders. This story is written for entertainmet, not profit. No copyright infringement nor offense is intended.

_**A/N:** A special thanks to all of those who read and even more thanks to those who took the time to review. It was greatly appreciated! I was happy to see that someone new liked that my story was not just about the boys. I know the cliff hanger was terribly cruel, but it was just irresistable. Yes, I'm sorry, there will be more. I would further like to offer my personal appologies to those of you sincerely reviewed and had to endure reading that classless waste of time politely dubbed a 'flame'. I assure you who cared to know (and one great reader that felt the need to defend me) that there is no reason to worry or even acknowledge such bull. This person creativly copied and pasted the same message to the first chapter of all of my stories for his/her apparent amusement. I doubt they even read it, but thanks for coming to my defense all of the same. Again, real cristism is welcome as are good reviews!_

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 9: Rough All Over**

Milly was kind enough to agree to take me to the Quick-Mart to get some flowers for Eugene. This seemed to be as far as her kindness extended, but I was grateful nonetheless. It just so happened that the Quick-Mart was across from the Socs' practice baseball field. Mark's team was practicing there, as I could tell from the color of their uniforms. Mark was pitching, and man was he good! The balls were whizzing over the base like shooting stars. Wouldn't it be something, I mused in my strange mood, if Mark and Sam ended up on the same major league baseball team one day? Could a Soc and grease, I thought, be on the same team?

"May I go over there and wave to the boys from my school?" I asked sweetly, doing my best impersonation of Nelly sucking up.

"No," Came the simple answer. I frowned in response, but said nothing. Quite frankly I was not in the mood. Once inside, I lost Milly in the meat section. Spying that she had the man in the deli cutting her beef, I slipped silently away. Outside, I boldly crossed street alone and stood by the dug-out, fingers through the chain-link fence. Someone asked me, "What are you doing here?"

It was a coach, by the looks of it.

"Watching." I answered, unsure of whether to sound cocky or polite. It showed.

"Hey Baby." It was Mark. I was rescued, I thought, but only for a moment.

"What'd you call her?" the coach snapped.

"That's her name, dad: Babygirl. She's the kid the Denseys' adopted."

"Shut up, boy!" I practically jumped at his tone. "Don't you tell me that stupid lie!"

"Dad, I'm not lying." Mark whined.

"It is my name, sir." I butted in, in an attempt to help.

"Shut up!" He turned on me venomously. "Get your head back in the game boy and stop staring at nosy little girls."

Mark looked down and jogged off to the pitcher's mound again.

"Now you, either stay quiet or get outta here. Go on-get!" He spat.

I had never been talked to like that in my entire life. I had never even heard someone talked to like except maybe once or twice. As much as Milly looked down upon Eugene, I had never heard her be so malicious. My parents had never spoken to anyone like that. My brothers would occasionally cuss out a Soc, but not without reason. Picking on little kids involved scaring and teasing them, not screaming degrading insults. The closest anyone had ever come to being so rude was Steve, as he dispised and looked down on me, but he was no where near this. I at once felt the strangest desire to fall down and cry like a baby.

Instead I took a page out of Dallas Winston's book and, without thinking really, opened my mouth. Hand on hips, as cocky as you please, I said: "Who's gonna make me?"

He didn't respond at first because he was so shocked. I was pretty shocked myself. Then he went sorta beet red and sneered. "I will."

"You and what army?" I leaned against the gate away from him, acting much braver than I felt. How dangerous could it be, anyway? The greaser in me was coming out, and I was proud to see it.

"Little girl," Mark's dad growled, gritting his teeth. "I'm warning you..."

"You're warning me?" I dared to scoff. "Oh- well, then in that case let me take off with my tail between my legs." I rolled my eyes.

He exploded with a yell and rushed the gate, grabbing for my hair. I got away just in time, throwing away my impersonation of Dally and switching to my impersonation of Ponyboy running track. Darting across the road, I spied Milly at the check-out counter. I grabbed some flowers and met her there. To be honest, if I hadn't felt so crummy about Eugene, I would have been real proud of my smooth move.

"Run through the grocery store?" Milly asked, with a cruel eyebrow slightly raised. It was little wonder she was suspicious as I was out of breath.

"No ma'am." I bit back the bitterness at her calm, almost bored facade.

"May I help you with these, ma'am?" a young man asked.

"No thank you. I've got them." I reached forward to help.

The teenage-looking boy looked at her bandaged hand with concern and asked nervously, "Trouble in the kitchen?"

"Yes." Milly said. Why was he being so suspicious? I didn't know about him, but we always cut ourselves in the kitchen, accidently. My brothers and I did it all the time. Well, _I_ did it when Darry let me help. Even my mom used to do it occasionally.

"Are you alright?" That seemed to be more than enough intervention for her. Milly grabbed her bags up swiftly and a little harshly and walked away without so much as a single word. I followed, leaving behind one very disgruntled employee. Looking over my shoulder on the way out the door, I could see the manager fussing at the check-out boy and the boy shrugging and gesturing in response.

I hate hospitals. I hate the way they look. I hate the way they smell. I hate the way they remind me of...things. Once we arrived and made our way through the cold maze of identical halls, I found yet another thing to hate about hospitals. I, being under 12, was not allowed to visit a critical care patient that was a non-relative. Milly went in and had me wait.

My time there was about the most worthless moments of my life. That is until I saw something odd. In fact, it was really odd. The one and only, Mark Scruto was heading down the hall with his father. The man looked gentle and concerned. He had a protective arm wrapped around his son and was speaking so considerately with the doctor, I barely recognized him. Apparently, Mark had twisted his wrist in a little league game, as his father was explaining to an understanding doctor. I knew that look though. That was the look Steve's dad gave him once he sobered up. Even before I understood what it meant I hated it. Now, I was startled to find myself a little afraid. I wasn't sure why, maybe for Mark. At that moment, I knew. Mark's dad had gotten frustrated and grabbed his wrist; now he felt guilty. I sighed as I overheard him offer to take him out for ice cream.

Mark's dad noticed me and I tried as hard as I could to become a chameleon and fade into the bland colors of the wall behind me. I shrunk down in my seat, all bravado gone.

"Does your friend care to join us?" he asked, a tad reluctantly.

"No, thank you. I have to wait here."

"Everyone alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Glad to see you got your manners back."

He left. Mark stared at me, with a hint of frown. Why, I wondered... Mostly though, I was thinking about whether anyone would notice if I just kicked myself. How could I be so chicken?

I sensed, rather than saw, someone walk up to the desk. At once, I recognized the voice. It was New York accent and that cocky demanding tone that could only belong to one person I knew. Not knowing what else to do, I stared directly at his backside. The man lit a cigarette.

"Sir, you can't smoke in here."

He blew out his smoke a little close to the speaker and said, "Yes I can. I'm doing right here."

"I see that, but you're not allowed." the young nurse quipped. She was either braver than I was or didn't have clue who she was talking to.

"I'm allowed to do anything I want." She sort of made a funny noise and walked away in a huff. It may seem like an awkward response, but if you know Dally you wouldn't think anything of it. I did know Dally. Then it occurred to me: I know Dally!

I stared at him as he stared in the mirror across from him, checking his hair. Spying me just in the corner of his eye he snapped at me with, "What are you staring at, little kid?"

This was my chance to redeem myself, I thought. What I didn't think of was what I was about to do could be considered attempted suicide. I cocked my head a tad and said, "I dunno I think somebody fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down." Now for a 9-year-old against Dallas Winston that was pretty good. He wheeled around fast with his dangerous look on and I froze.

Then his face changed and he said: "BABYGIRL CURTIS!"

"Hey Dally."

"I outta bust your little face."

"Sorry. I was trying to get your attention." He laughed a little.

"It worked. Hey, are you here to see Johnny?"

"What? Oh! No, I'm here to see Eugene." I answered automatically.

"Who?"

"Eugene." Before I could explain the nurse came in a ushered him forth into a room. He grabbed me lightly and pulled me towards it.

"Wait. She can't go in there."

"What do you mean 'She can't go in there'?" Dally snapped.

"She's underage."

"Underage? I'm not trying to buy her a drink she wants to see our friend."

"Children under twelve are not allowed in these rooms."

"Children under twelve?"

"Yes." she said shortly.

"Well then there's no problem. She's 22."

"I doubt that."

"She a midget then. You callin' me a liar? Get outta here!"

Although I didn't get to see Eugene, I did get to see Johnny, but when I did, I wished I hadn't. He looked bad and could barely talk through the pain. He had to lay on his stomach with a bunch of noise machines and wires poking in him. His hair was in rough tufts and his skin looked like a grilled tomato. It hurt to see it.

"Hi Johnny." I said softly.

"Babygirl! You doin' alright?" he managed, hoarse.

"I'm fine." I sniffled in spite of myself.

"Socs treating you okay?"

"It's okay. I want to go home though."

"Yeah. I know."

"Johnny, Two-Bit's gonna bring Pony by later." Dally offered.

"You out yet Dally?"

"No, but I will be before the rumble." He assured his friend.

Just a few moments later I heard Milly's voice and Johnny was drifting off, so I quietly slipped out.

Milly folded her arms over her bags and coat and insisted we leave.

Back on the south side that evening I was lying down thinking over everything that had happened. It was probably the third most eventful day of my life. I had no brothers or Eugene to talk about it to and would have to wait to speak to Nelly or Miles. I had only just considered talking to John or maybe even Milly when I heard a loud thud from below. I jumped.

Another one soon followed and, naturally, I slipped off my bed and went to the door to take a look. From the landing at the top of the stairs, it seemed that the sound was coming from John's office. Voices could be heard as well, muffled but harsh.

I walked slowly downwards, feeling as tired as John had looked the past few days and gently knocked on the door. A few raps later, it opened to reveal a disgruntled looking John, tie askew and brow dotted with sweat beads, he leaned over me and demanded, "What do you need?"

"What's going on?" I ventured.

"Nothing. Go straight to bed, unless your hungry. Marie will get you something from the kitchen. Goodnight."

He shut the door and I heard, distinctly glass shatter. My gut feel with it's pieces. No longer hungry, and more than a little disturbed, I ran back up-stairs. Panting on my bed, I thought hard and angrily.

This was not supposed to happen. I was frightened. My brothers wanted me safe on the south side. Sure, I hadn't been jumped, but this sort of thing was only supposed to happen on the north side. These rough situations were for rough people, not Socs. Eugene had said when the time came I'd which one I was. Could I handle this? Was I a real greaser or were brothers the only thing keeping me from being a Soc? Now, with the line I had known and respected blurred, I couldn't even properly define those words anymore. What was greaser and what made them different from the Soc? I had always heard it wasn't just the money and style and area of town. We came from different worlds. The south side Socs had pretty lives, the greasers rough ones. That's the way it had always been, but my world and head was spinning. Then I think I finally figured something out by myself, something I was just dying to talk or ask Ponyboy about.

Nelly didn't want the world because it didn't want her. Dallas hated the world because it hated him. The world expected little of them, and they gave little to the world. Two-Bit and Emily Mathews' father had run off when they were kids, and Miles mom had abandoned him. Steve's dad got drunk and knocked him around, felt bad, and gave him a few dollars to make up for it. Mark's dad got worked up at games, lost his short, hot temper, and roughed him up. Feeling guilty he too tried to make-up for it with big gifts. Johnny parents went at it like mad dogs, and apparently John had a temper as well. I though resentfully of Eugene's words that he had tried to 'fix her'. I couldn't question further now.

All this time we had seemed so different and our worlds felt so distant. Could it be that in this we really the same? Could it be that things really were rough all over Tulsa? And if that were true, could it be that things were rough all over the world?

_**A/N:** I'll keep this one short and sweet. I hoped you liked the longer chpater, although it was a bit different. Please let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading! Congrats to the person that predicted Baby would spy Johnny at the hospital!_


	10. Tough As Nails

_**Diaclaimer: **Please see previous chapters._

_**A/N:** First and foremost, I would like to address the wonderful reviewers: thanks for reviewing! Some thought that the whole story behind Babygirl's being taken was a bit unbelievable. It was a wild story, but not at all impossible. Keep in mind that this is not at all present day law. Also, as hard as they may be for some to believe, this is not only possible it HAS HAPPENED. I found that story so interesting I decided to incorporate it into my work. I'm sorry for those of you that don't like the lack of brothers being in all of the chapters a lot, but I have several reasons for doing that. You will see a little more of them._

Chapter 10: Tough As Nails

Maria, who seemed to be have a half-smoked cigarette constantly glued to her hand, drove me to school. She was a very fast driver and rather reminded me of a hung over Two-Bit. That was no fun, and I sure missed Eugene. Milly had said he was doing well. That was about all she had said too. I wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. After all, how well can anyone be doing directly after a heart attack? Eiether way, I was eager for the ride to end. I think that was partly because I couldn't wait to get away from the house and partly because I couldn't wait to tell Nelly and Miles what I had done yesterday. I only hoped they would believe me.

At lunch, I eagerly spilled my entire story beginning to end and then, of course, the bell rang. Luckily we still had recess, and once outside Miles turned around, gave me an uncharacteristic skeptical look, and demanded: "Did that really happen?"

"Of course it did!" Nelly shouted. We both looked at her questioningly.

"Babygirl is a terrible liar." She said simply. It was true too, and I knew it.

"So," began Miles, lowering his voice considerably, "You really heard them fighting and John threw a vase?"

"Yeah." I solemnly reported.

"Must have been what her hand was about." Nelly cleverly observed.

"I think I may be nicer to her now that I know what's going on. I should have known about John's temper. He scared me that night he picked me up."

"And remember the day we got locked out of your house?" Nelly recalled.

"I bet Eugene was trying to keep me away from their fight." I finished for her.

"If the cops find out though, do you think they'll let you go?"

"Yeah, to a new home God-only-knows-where. They won't let me go back to my brothers for sure. I don't want to change schools again, or be too far from home."

"You said Johnny knows all about the whole abusive dad thing?" Miles asked.

"Yeah; and so does Mark, apparently."

"Maybe you could talk to him." He offered.

"I would, but he'd tell my brothers. Besides, he's so bad off he could barely say but a few words to Dally when I was there. As for Mark, he doesn't know that I know. I think he's kind of mad about me getting him in trouble and I rather not get all nosy and have not liking me."

"I can't believe you spoke to Dally like that." Nelly repeated. "It was tuff."

Right then and there I felt like nothing could touch me. I was the toughest thing on that playground. I, 9-year-old, orphaned Babygirl, had stood up to possibly the most dangerous greaser in the city.

I felt like I could do anything. I could steal Milly's Cadillac. I could fight Steve Randal. I could climb to the top of the monkey bars and jump off. As only one of those things were available, I did the latter. As a result, I went to piano practice with skinned knees.

As you can probably imagine, "Miss" Stephanie Reynolds was not very pleased. It was like a second etiquette class. "Miss" Reynolds was about 87 and demanded no sound but music, not even shuffling or scuffing of feet. I knew just a little piano from my mom and so, in the beginning, I thought I'd like it. I soon learned otherwise. With her screeching that I was "not feeling it" and "defacing the Mozart" she blew my confidence. I practically trembled as I banged my way miserably through the notes.

This day however, was to be different. I had walked into that stuffy old house with a new sense of confidence. My head and chin were up and stiff. I was not going to mess up, for I had spent the ride thinking what would Eugene say if he were here. I had finally come up with an answer. To keep myself focused, I walked like Dally, and smiled thinking of Sodapop, and when I sat down on that bench I closed my eyes and pretended my mom was sitting next to me.

I went back to a time when death was still a distant thing that only happened to old people; a time when greasers and Socs didn't exist; where all the people I loved were perfect; and my life would never change. My mom smelled sweetly, but not like Milly's stiff perfume. It reminded me of honeysuckles that grew out in the country. Her shining hair was thrown back behind her shoulders and her dress was spread around her, slipping onto my knee. It was summer, and the boys were outside playing football. I was sad and whiney because they wouldn't let me play. We had lemonade on the table where cake would be today, and the screen door was open to thick summer heat. She put my hands on the keys softly and began the song. It was easy just one, two, three four, one, two three, four. Just touching the notes wasn't enough for Miss Stephanie, but I tuned out her fussing by remembering mom's deep, sweet laugh.

The notes took shape like a picture being filled in, and soon I could hear the words in my head. Just like that, I played. Suddenly, I wasn't playing the notes, I was playing the song. I had feeling. I had rhythm. I wasn't massacring Bach, I was _playing _it. It felt kind of good to succeed at something by myself. In fact, I think it was the first time I had ever done that.

As I went home, I could not think of anything else but my victory. Even Marie's cloud of smoke could not deter my feelings, until I saw John's car parked outside early again.

As I stepped into the house, I began to feel and anxiousness. Nothing had even happened yet, but there was a mood in the place that was as grim as it was inescapable. The first thing that I noticed was Marie's vexed expression. It grew as she moved further into the interior of the house. I stayed in the kitchen retrieving a banana and some peanut butter from the pantry for a snack. I thought that a little milk and plate would be wise, but reaching for the cupboard I found it bare. I tried another..nothing. They were all empty. For some reason I thought to check the trash bin where I found bags full of broken ceramic plates poking through the black plastic. Someone had had a fit. Not feeling very hungry anymore, I went up-stairs.

There, I heard the familiar thumps on the floor beneath me and turned on my radio. Elvis was shouting that apparently somebody of something was nothing but a hound dog crying all the time and renouncing that he wasn't his friend. It reminded me of John. Once a girl had been shot at the Dingo and I remember mom getting really scared about it. Dad was the angriest I had ever seen him. He said only a coward of a man would attack a woman. When seeing Johnny's father out and about he never spoke a word to him. It struck me now that he was disgusted, and I felt the same way. I was shaking.

Maybe it was the sounds, or the injustice, or the helplessness of the situation but I was trembling slightly. I turned up the radio hoping to drown out the kind of noises one's imagination clings to with grim and morbid fascination, like eyes focusing on funny shadows in the dark. With each bang I pictured a stricken Milly hitting the wall. With each crash I saw her fling herself in a attempt to escape the next blow. I saw, in my minds eye, the pulsing vein in John's temple as his voiced raised. I could just make out her name, spat at her in a deep, loud voice and occasionally some furious nos.

I hoped a prayed that this would be over soon. It wasn't. Realizing it did no good and not being able to stand it anymore, I packed a few clothes and went downstairs.

It had quieted a good deal, so I crept into the kitchen stealthily. Once I arrived, I was in for a shock. A weeping Milly was standing at the kitchen sink, glass at her feet, and hands under running water. If you have ever seen a grown woman sob then you already know what a disturbing sight it can be for a nine-year-old. However, something else entirely made it disgusting. John was standing behind her, all traces of anger gone, arms wrapped gently (almost romantically behind her) murmuring comfortingly and washed her cut hands in the sink. Marie was white as a sheet cleaning up the glass with a broom and puffing half-heartedly on a cigarette. Then scene was so alien, so wrong, and yet I considered staying. Maybe he was sorry.

"I told you not to mess with the glass, darling." he softly scolded, his face in her hair, his voice tired.

Maire bumped into them and immediately excused herself. John's glance became harsh and unmerciful.

"You will not repeat what goes on here on bad days," Here I remembered Eugene's words. "Not even to your little gossip friends. No one. Am I clear, Maire?"

"Yes sir."

"It is no one's business, our private life."

"Yes, sir. But sir, the child..."

"The child is fine." He snapped. "She's in no danger here." I actually couldn't picture John ever hurting me. He had hugged me for my grades, after all, and given me everything I asked for. If I just stayed in line, perhaps...

"She's much better off than she was on the north side with no food in the house, surrounded by rough boys, walking the streets at all hours, and going to public school. We can provide for her, and she won't be harmed here, so I see no reason for her not to stay. What's more Massey won't either. Wouldn't you agree?"

'Who's Massey?' I thought.

"Yes." She snapped her jaw closed and moved around the counter to throw away the glass shards. Without a sound, I slipped inside the pantry and waited. Once the coast was clear, I didn't hesitate a moment. I leapt from the hiding place and ran straight to the door.

It must have been a half hour later that I arrived on the doorstep of Emily's house, where I told her everything. It seemed the whole story of 'everything that has happened' was getting longer and longer each time I told it. It seemed years ago that I was sitting on my back porch thinking life was boring and I needed an adventure. It was only a couple months ago.

Emily's mom was out at work again. Two-bit was out at Bucks. I never thought about it being dangerous to be alone until now. I shook it off as a Soc thing. She handed me some hot chocolate, which her mom taught her to make, and told me all that was happening.

Johnny was home, but in a wheelchair. He would never walk again. Everyone visited him even though his parents hated it. My brothers and Johnny had to go to a trial next week. It would decide whether Johnny went to jail (but I don't know if they can do that to a cripple) and who got custody of Ponyboy. With my parents gone, Johnny crippled and maybe facing prison, me getting taken away, and Ponyboy maybe getting taken away, I felt like the world was trying to whittle my family down to nothing.

"They aren't still mean to Johnny, are they?" I asked, thinking about his parents. She didn't answer.

"Come with me." She said, darkly.

In the cold night we crept along, like Indians trying to sneak up and get some scalps on the western films. It didn't take long to reach the spot across from the lot in between Johnny's house and mine.

They were fighting again, but what surprised me was not the fact of it, but the noise. It sounded just like my house. I had been put in my 'new home' because it was supposed to be better. Actually, it was just like Johnny's, only prettier on the outside. Irony is cruel.

The yells were like fighting cats and they growled like rabid dogs. Crashes were faster and bigger than at my house, but they were crashes nonetheless. Why don't people realize how terrifying that is for little kids?

Then, it occurred to me that Johnny and I were alike. We sure didn't look tuff. People liked to look out for us. When things went wild at home, we had both left and went to our best friend's house. It's weird that people teach us behaviors without us noticing. I knew what to do, because I'd seen it done before.

That worried me. If Johnny would kill a Soc in self-defense, would I react the same way now? No, I thought. That's where me and Johnny are different. I squeeze by, but he is as tough as nails. He learns things from Dally. I was a Curtis.

Speaking of the devil, he came busting out of the door of my house with Darry grabbing at his shirt. The boys were chasing him, hanging off his arms, but it did no good. He looked furious, big, strong, and dangerous. I shrunk in intimidation, although he couldn't see me and emily, next to me, drew in a sharp breath. That is why, I remembered, people are scarred of Dallas Winston.

I noticed that in his hands was a familiar object. My baseball bat! What was he doing with it? That question was all too soon answered. He ran over to Johnny's door and I watched in horror at the scene which unfolded before me.

He kicked it in with one cocky, deafening blast. Wielding the bat above his head, he broke something that busted into a million sharp pieces, by the sound of it. His shadow through the curtain was as petrifying as a horror real at teh drive in. We all just stood in the street, not moving or speaking, and not seeing anything but that. His muscular shoulders arched and swung like he was hacking away with a sling blade. Johnny's drunk mother, in a mess, came running unsteadily from the house screaming and ranting.

Johnny's father soon followed, only to take a hit to the back of the knees from my bat and fall to the ground. With face full of dirt he struggled, shocked. He was used to being the one doing the hitting, I sickly remembered. Not anymore. Dally made sure of that. Whack after whack hit his body, until a disgusting crack broke the trance we were all stricken with and Darry rushed forward and pulled him off. They were trying to stop him from killing him, I realized and felt my throat swell uncomfortably tight.

At first, I thought this violence and vengeance possessed Dally would hit Darry, but Darry raised his fists and called his friends name, bringing him back down to earth where he strode angrily and determinedly back into the house, emerging a few minutes later with Johnny in his chair and a bag.

Out of breath and sporting a bloody lip, he breathed out fiercely : "Say bye-bye," to the people in the lying in the Cade yard who called themselves Johnny's parents. They and we knew that they would never be able to go near Johnny again from that moment on without fearing the wrath of Dallas Winston.

I was just in awe. Dally may be a hood, but he had just stood up to the man that abused his friend and taken him out without touching the woman. I didn't know if I should, but couldn't help but respect it. Now I knew why they feared like they did and why Johnny looked up to him. Dally really was tough as nails.

The neighborhood watched as they, now calm, took Johnny to my house. Emily branched off in the direction of home as she wasn't allowed to be out after dark and didn't want to wait around for her brother to notice she was. Sodapop unconsciously reached a protective arm around me and walked us forward.

Once inside, Darry cleaned Dally's lip and Ponyboy settled in Johnny. Two-bit watched the food on the stove. I sat on the couch next to Steve. He shot me a mean glance, and then a questioning one, and then he shouted: "BABYGIRL! What the hell are you doing here?"

It got real quiet real quick.

_**A/N: **I'd love a review for this chapter! Thanks for reading, as always! _


	11. Can't Be Selfish

**Disclaimer:** Please see previous chapters.

_**A/N:** First and foremost, I would like to extend a special thank you to all who reviewed and another appology to Sammie for not up-dateing sooner. I know I left you guys at cliff hanger, but complications arose with this chapter and I was away for a while as well. The reviews were appreciated nonetheless. This chapter was difficult to write, as I said, and it is very different. It mainly revolves around a lot of important speech. Please, leave me a review to let me know what you thought of it! Thanks for reading, as always!_

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 11:** Can't Be Selfish

I froze.

What had I been thinking anyway? Did I really believe they weren't going to notice me? Was I following them out of instinct the way Soda had guided me out of the same? Was part of me hoping that by pretending things were normal they might miraculously return to the way they once were? More importantly, how the hell was I supposed to answer that question?

As I sat transfixed, I noticed I wasn't the only one in room that seemed temporarily paralyzed. Two-Bit's mouth was open, but no sound issued from it. Actually, I think that was a first. Ponyboy looked surprised, and then, at the same time, not. Knowing me as well as he did he had probably been expecting something like this to happen for some time now. Johnny looked from person to person as though he had seriously missed something. Dally grinned, cocky as ever. What else would Dallas Winston do at a time like this? Darry looked, well, mortified. It was unnerving to see the calmest, most level headed, strongest of the group with his eye brows raised past his hairline and his eyes themselves as wide as they had ever been.

I still hadn't answered, and Darry still hadn't said anything. To be honest, he was sort of beginning to scare me, so I just opened my mouth to say the first thing excuse that popped into my head in a pure attempt to break the heavy silence. It was something brilliant to the effect of: "Nothin'."

My answer, I soon realized, meant little or nothing. Steve was still ticked, Dally still slightly amused, everyone else still shocked, and Soda... I turned and saw he was making his way slowly towards me down the hall. He looked as if he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing was real. Then, without warning, he practically leapt on me, throwing us down onto the sofa with a thump. He hugged me so tightly my back was popping, but I didn't mind. He could squeeze me all day for all I cared. I breathed deeply into his shoulder where my face was pressed. I had forgotten what Soda smelled like.

That's another thing you don't think about a whole lot. When someone dies, or moves away, or you just don't see them anymore, you don't forget what they look like because you have pictures, but sometimes you forget other important memories like how they sounded or smelled. They aren't a three dimensional memory anymore. They sort of fade out of your grasp.

I recall that after my parents died I would go their closet and shut myself in. I would hold onto mom's soft dresses, or dad's worn work clothes, and breath in the remnants of their smell that still lingered there. It was comforting. Likewise, sometimes, when I couldn't go to sleep, Ponyboy's voice would soothe me because he sounded like mom. Darry's laugh from the other room allowed me to pretend it was dad in there for a few sweet, ignorant moments..

It scared me to realize that I'd been away from my brother so long that I had not been able to remember his smell; like he had been dead to me all this time, or me to him. To hold onto him again was like cheating death. I squeezed him back, suddenly feeling the need to prove to myself he was real. I think he was doing the same thing.

That, what some saps would call, "touching moment" did not last long, I assure you. Chaos soon broke out, as is custom in the Curtis household. Two-Bit let a whoop and a holler. Dally threw back his head and laughed out right, then swore appropriately. Johnny began grinning ear to ear, asking or welcoming or something else that I couldn't quite make out in his quiet voice through all the ruckus. Ponyboy was excited, and that is a sight to see as all his energy kind of explodes and his mouth runs a mile a minute. Steve was shouting as well, which is a little confusing, but so what? I couldn't really think about that anyway, because Soda was twirling and swinging me around in the air (which is really fun, if a tad hard on the arms). A three way wrestling match broke out between Steve, Two-Bit, and Pony. Dally yelled at them (curses and encouragement and bets) as Johnny laughed weakly along.

Then, Two-Bit's beer spilled in the battle on the rug before me as Soda tackled Pony. While the bitter sweet smell twanged at my nostrils, I made up my mind. I belonged here and I was not leaving my home again. The supreme court judges could rule that I could leave or go to jail and I would not budge. John, Eugene, and a regiment of social workers could not pry me from those rickety front porch stairs. They say your instincts are fight or flight, and I had spent my life running away from problems. This time I would have to stand and fight. Nothing and no one in the world was going to keep me from this any longer.

Hands on hips and resolute, I stood watching the scene and wondering how long life could go on with everyone playing as if this was normal. The hectic kind of peace did not last long. Darry rose from the dinning room chair and brushed his hand nervously through his hair. His eyes darted around as if thinking frantically. His frustration visibly grew. I waited. No one else noticed they way his was softly and unconsciously pounding his fists onto his jean pockets. Steve brought in a chocolate cake, and I turned up the t.v. - that's when he lost it.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" he yelled at us. Once again, everything was unusually quiet and still. "You're acting like this is how things are supposed to be and they're not! You're all acting like nothing has happened and it has! Baby can't be here. Johnny's in a wheel chair..."

"Darry," it was probably the first time I ever interrupted an agitated Darry. He looked at me fiercely for a fraction of a second and his look softened greatly. He was caring old Darry again, who had once risked his job to come and see me at school. I almost smiled at him. "You don't understand,"

His face softened. He knelt down towards me. "Baby, what are you doing here? What happened?"

So, I told him most of my story. Admittedly, I glossed over a few things I felt uncomfortable telling. Everybody was listening to me for about the first time I could remember. I mean they were really hearing what I had to say. They'd interject with: "Darry we gotta stop this." or "Wait-when did that happen?" We were sort of formulating a plan or building a case as went on. Each of us had then thinking fast, complacent look. This may be possible. Hope crept up inside me. It was so unusual that I barely recognized it. I did not miss a beat. I got right up to the part about Massey somebody when he stopped me.

"Massey?" his incredulous look was contagious and it traveled across the room like an epidemic.

"Who is Massey?" The exchanges significant glances that followed was one I did not miss.

"Get in the car, Baby." Darry said. I did. He could have told me to pack my bags and follow him to the south pole and I would have too.

We loaded up a few minutes later and pulled out of the driveway casually. We ended up silently in front of the Dingo, buying an ice-cream Sunday. This is a lot like when Darry gave me a couple other important talks. One was: "what's going to happen now that mom and dad are gone." Another was: "why we don't talk to strangers." The first ever was: "why I couldn't date until I was 25."

We pulled out, ice-cream in hand, and drove around for a long time saying nothing. After a while, he swallowed a bite of ice-cream and spoke up.

"Massey owns this city."

I gulped down my bite. I didn't know anyone could own a city. "The city?" I asked

"Well, he owns half the businesses. He owns half the land. He was a senator at one time, and a lawyer, so he knows the law and government like the back of his hand. He also holds the respect of half the people involved in it. He's not exactly the nicest man. The only one he's polite to anymore is his kid, or that's what they say."

"Wow." It seemed like a plausible reaction.

"He's just not someone you want to cross, and he thinks a lot of you, he'll get you what you want, more or less."

"That's perfect."

"How's that?"

"We just talk to this Mr. Massey guy and tell him all about us and our problem. He'll help us out once he sees how important it is for me to be home."

Darry didn't answer.

"Darry?" He just sucked on his straw. My eyes burned and poured over and for once I didn't fight it. The world could fight me as much as it wanted, but my brother not needing me, that hurt too much for me to play tough any longer.

"Baby," he said softly. He put one of his warm, massive arms around me. "Baby, what's wrong?" He pulled over.

I sniffed and let out a low, quiet sob. "Don't you want me anymore?" I know it was pathetic, but I was a 9-year-old with a broken heart. How much more pathetic can one get?

"Of course."

"We want you around." He tried to reassure me, though his voice was cracking. "We need you to help with breakfast and find Soda's shoes in the morning. You know he completely lost a pair for a week? Two-Bit has to walk to the fridge to get his beers and Pony has to do the dishes every night. Soda is bored because he has no one to laugh at his jokes like you did."

"You guys laugh."

"Yeah, but me and Dally can't exactly giggle hysterically."

"No one helps me clean up or listens to my baseball playing advice. It's not the money, Baby. I want you to know that."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"We don't us your room either. It's just like you left it. Probably nothing compared to your new fancy, girly one, but..."

"I hate my room."

"Well, what's wrong with it?"

"I dunno. Nothing, I guess."

"Well, if that's all you've got to worry about..." He sighed. "Look we all miss you, annoying as you can be. It feels weird not singing on stormy nights,"

"Darry." I whined, although no one had overheard the embarrassing fact. He half-heartedly laughed.

"Look Baby, I'll tell you the truth if you can be grown up for a minute, okay?"

I nodded. He pulled back onto the road again and started driving. What he said next flipped my universe upside down.

"When the judge ruled that I couldn't have custody of you, I was happy."

_**WHAT?!**_

"Not for me, or because we wanted to get rid of you or anything, but because it was such a relief. You see, when I was younger, I used to get so mad at school that so many of my team members were so rich and we were so poor."

'What did that have to with anything?' I thought.

"It bugged me that my jersey was always a little more ragged than theirs; that I could buy as much stuff when we went out for meals together; or drive my own car around town; or go to movies as often. Paul was a good enough friend, and most of the time he made me feel like it didn't matter, but I would occasionally get really mad and argue with mom and dad. One night, we got in a real bad fight,"

My surprise must have shown.

"Yeah, we fought. It was the last time too because I finally realized how selfish I was being. There were doing the best they could and couldn't help that were poor. It hurt them when they had to say no to me, and it hurt even worse when I got angry. And over what? Movies I didn't really want to see and cars? There were times when I wanted to be a Soc so bad it hurt. That's were I thought I belonged. It wasn't because I liked them better, or thought I was better than the rest of family, I just fit in and felt I deserved as much as they did."

I understood what he was saying for once. That's how I felt. I remembered, not fo the first time, what the boys had said about the only thing keeping Darry from being a Soc.

"The truth is: I dodeserve it, but life doesn't give you what you deserve and the world isn't fair. All you can do is accept who you are, work hard, and never turn your back on your family. It's hard. It's called growing up."

At that moment, the car stopped and I looked around vaguely. My jaw dropped. I could not believe where we were: John and Milly Densey's home. I turned to him with a look a shock and betrayal, but he wasn't finished.

" I want you around, Baby, but this is a big chance for you. It's the chance I have to offer you something better for your future in this world. You can take piano, learn to be a lady, see the world on vacation, maybe visit Disney world, or even possibly take horseback ridding lessons. You'll get a good education. You can have enough to eat and wear nice clothes and live in a safe neighborhood. What can I offer you? A house full of beer, chocolate cake, and rowdy boys? This is the only shot we have at giving you the things we never got."

"You could have gone to college and been a Soc. You gave up your chance, why can't I do the same?" I pleaded.

"I gave up the scholarship for the same reason I'm giving up you. This isn't about the money or what I want or even what you want. It's making the responsible decision, like I did when I gave up my scholarship. We've talked it over and all agreed that as much as we want you back, this is the biggest favor we can do for you. You don't understand all the problems you'll face at home when you get older if you stay. Please try and understand, Baby. I just can't be that selfish." To my immense horror, his eyes watered painfully.

And that what it took for me to realize how selfish I was being. I had nearly made my biggest, toughest brother cry. They were just trying to do what was best for me. This new life may not be what I was used to, or the most fun, but it was what they could offer. These people (Milly and John) were trying to do the right thing too, and I was giving them a hard time. I was making the situation harder on everybody by running away. The boys couldn't adapt still worrying about me. If I was concerned about them having money, getting their own rooms, and having less worries, then I should do them the only favor a little nine-year-old girl could and get out of their way. People, mainly adults, have to accept what they are in life, like Darry said. It's rough to accept being poor, but my family had done it and made the most of it. Now, it was my turn. I had to accept my place. It didn't mean I had to abandon my family or become a Soc, but I did have to grow up and quit whining. If I didn't, my brothers could get in trouble with law. It wasn't fair to split them up too. Darry was wrong, it was me that couldn't be selfish.

I did what I had to do. I did what I never dreamed I'd do. I did the first mature thing I had done in my life. I got out of the car and went inside.

_**A/N:** Well, I hope that explained a lot. don't worry there's still more to go, and there are a few surprises in store! Please let me know what you thought! Questions? Comments? Suggestions?_


	12. Return to the South Side

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.

_**A/N:** Thanks so much for all of your support reviewers! Without you this story would not be here! Many of you have requested a new chapter so, I thought I'd go ahead and up-date. It's a long one. I hope you like it. I will be really busy and probably won't post the new chapter for a while, but it has been started. The nect two may not be as long. If anyone's interested, there will be about 4 more chapter and an epilogue of sorts. okay, I'll shut up and let you read this._

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person."_

**Chapter 12:** Return to the South Side

The days that followed seemed like a flurry of glorified everyday activities. Since I had returned, things had been normal around the house. Well, they were back to the way I was getting used to when I arrived. Sister Treadwell called it "getting settled in". I sure didn't feel settled in, though. I felt like I was a guest staying in someone else's nice house. I was careful not to wake people, always polite, and wasn't sure what towels to use in the bathroom. I couldn't just longue around the living room. I wasn't comfortable because, after all these months of living in this house, it still wasn't my home.

The days were routine, manageable, and, somehow, diminishing. I tried, daily, not to think to much of my brothers, but the more I tried to grow close to these new people in my life, the more I felt distant from everyone.

It was as if the only way to face being so close and yet so far away, was to try and erase them from my memory. I didn't realize that was wrong, and I didn't care. I did what I had to do to cope, but, unfortunately, giving up your past to keep the pain away means you sort of give up yourself as well. Eventually, I just sort of fell silent.

I didn't notice it myself until the letter was sent home.

Nelly had asked if I was turning into Miles. Miles asked if I was okay. Sister Treadwell asked if John had a drinking problem. I said no. That was about all I said too.

Eugene was out of the hospital and home, but not back to work yet, and I sure missed him. I spent what time was not scheduled in my room with my radio, drawings, and books I had borrowed from Miles. I was reading a really good one about King Arthur, but it was really long and I hardly left my room. I had plenty to do and (pink or not) I felt comfortable there in my own space. It was private, except that John made it a habit to come and check on me twice a day.

In piano, I hardly said a word. I practiced obsessively and as a perfectionist. I was overly critical of my own work, emotion overwrought, and my fingers were sore. Miss Stephanie loved it. At last, the day of my fist recital approached and, as I did not care much and had found my secret to calming my nerves, I was not nervous. I played well, or so I was told. This meant I had to go to lessons less often.

School was the only place I had fun, It seemed. It was as normal as it had been. I would sneak glances at Mark, and practically squeal if he smiled at me. Nelly would do the greatest, most risky things I'd ever seen. She stole Mark's baseball cards back out of the teachers desk and then gave them to me to give to Mark. I thought it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me.

Of course, when the teacher found out it was gone,I had to confess, because I couldn't have him thinking I'd let a friend take a beating for something I did. The problem was Nelly wasn't about to let a friend take a beating for something she did, so we both confessed. Nelly was whipped on the spot with the strap and I was taken straight to Sister Treadwell. I couldn't believe the change that had occurred. I was being treated like a Soc. Had I finally become one, and, if so how did I feel about it? I wasn't sure at all, so I tried to forget about it- or at least pretend to. Sister Treadwell was very concerned about my change in behavior. I wasn't punished, but a letter was sent home. I didn't bother to read it.

John was concerned to see the letter and asked why I had changed my attitude. I shrugged. John had surprised me more then ever. I wondered why the change in his new attitude. John had seemed like the nice one, overworked, but nice. Then he had become an enraged monster, then a nice father figure. Miles had advised me that to understand a person, you must know why they do the things they do. That's where the things got interesting. I can't find a motive for any of John's actions. The night I had left home, he had been really worried, but had assumed I would go to my brothers. He had called Darry ahead of time, and he had agreed to bring me home. Ever since he'd been watching me like a hawk, trying to get me to finish my food, and even playing catch with me when Milly wasn't looking and he wasn't working. The way he looked at me, I thought he was scared I melt away.

Recently, John had taken it upon himself to try to find out what I wanted for my birthday. I had insisted I didn't want a party, so he promised to get Milly to cancel her plans for one. There was no one to invite, I had explained. Of course there was, but no one they'd want in there house. I almost laughed imagining Eugene, the gang, Nelly, Emily, Miles, and maybe Mark at a party. I guess John was being nice, but he was beginning to bug me. I didn't want him spending money on me to make up for fighting with Milly. It reminded me too much of Steve ad Mark's dads.

Milly on the other hand, was concerned about my choice of friends. So she set up "play-dates" with someone she deemed respectable for me to have as an acquaintance. She picked, of course, the snobbiest and most ridiculous Soc she could have. Sarah was almost as boring as she was arrogant. The afternoons were polite, respectable, and miserable. We played- god forbid- dolls and dress up. We made cupcakes with pink icing. It was utterly disgusting.

One day, out 'moms' decided to have a sleep-over at my house. Sarah left Mass with us and came over for the whole day. All I could think about was how cool it would be to have Emily or Nelly over instead, but I was as nice as I could bare. That evening we sere sitting in the we watched the Ed Sullivan show. Ed Sullivan was not hosting because of a wreck or something, so this new guy was doing it, and guess who was supposed to be on? The King. Miles and have given me the idea; not the sort of thing I expected from him, but it was good all the same. He said that if I really wanted to get rid of her I'd have to make it so that her parents wouldn't let her over anymore.

After Mass last week, I had heard Milly talking with Sarah's mother, Eliza, about heathens dancing and gyrating sinfully all over the place. If we saw him dance on t.v., she'd lose it- I hoped. As we watched, there were acrobats and comedians and folk singers. Then they introduced Elvis Presley and he sang "Hound Dog". Boy it was exciting! I think I just lit up like a lightening bug. Sarah, on the other hand, was taken aback. Her jaw was hanging down and her eyes were wide as a bug. She had hardly ever watched t.v. before, on the count of her mother, who thought it was the devil's tool. I couldn't help it, but I laughed and jumped up and started shaking my legs and swinging my body and jiggled my butt. My brothers had always showed off my impression of Elvis. they thought it was real good. Sarah busted out laughing. As I "gyrated", getting into it, singing along, Sarah sat on the floor and clapped and giggled.

Another spin around the room brought me to face John. He was laughing, I mean out-right laughing. His face was red and his hair fell everywhere. I shook my legs in front of him and he howled with laughter doubling over. Marie stood behind him, arms folded, rolling her eyes and laughing a little in spite of herself. That's when the already unpredictable John did something altogether unexplainable and unexpected: he turned up the t.v. and danced too. He did it better than I did. Then, he threw back his head and howled like a hound dog. I though, 'My God! He's lost it!' Only my brothers would pull something like that, or so I had thought. Sarah looked at John and it appeared like she had stopped breathing, but he twirled me around by the hand and it was like deja vu. Dad used to do the same thing to me.

I was yelling for him and cheering him on when Milly came into the room screaming as if the devil himself was in her living room. I covered my ears to shield them from the banshee yell of terror as she dove for the t.v., turning it off just as the song ended. John wrapped an arm very tightly around my chest and brought me up against him. It wasn't as quite as gentle as my dad or Darry might have done, but rather resembled they way a bank robber may hold a hostage.

Milly looked mad. Her eyes were bigger than Sarah's, and she looked at John like he was an alien who had broken in and stolen her husband. She screamed again and again pulling her hair like people running from zombies in a horror film. With every yell the words became more clear, she looked more and more rabid, nearly foaming at the mouth, and everyone was more still and silent. An awkward hush filled the room. Sarah looked terrified.

"Elvis! What where you thinking? That man on their dancing in their impure way? See no evil, John! You are corrupting the children! What will people say? What will they say?"

Uh-oh. This was going to get worse, I could feel it. Why was she yelling at him like that? Was she asking for it? John tightened his grip on shoulder as she walked towards him. I wiggled uncomfortably.

"I turned it on." I spluttered out.

John leaned down into my ear and whispered, "Shh. Take your friend up-stairs."

I did. I played what Sarah wanted to play, I listened to the Beatles like she wanted, and went to bed when she wanted. I was nice. The next day she went home after school. Milly rode with me silently back. She did not speak to me for three days.

I knew I had done something wrong, but I wasn't sure what. I didn't know what to say or do about it. So id didn't say or do anything. I stayed quiet. I left my insides to wriggle like they were being buried alive, like my feelings were.

Nelly thought they whole story was hilarious, right up to the part where Milly came in. Miles was quick to point out the benefits of the situation. First, I wasn't technically in any trouble. Second, John seemed to really like me. Last and most importantly, I didn't have play with Sarah anymore because when her mom found out what happened she went ballistic and forbid her from coming over ever again. Miles was an eternal optimist.

Nelly went to sister Treadwell's office after lunch and I didn't see her again for the rest of the day. I was kind of worried, but miles told me it was okay and to have a good spring break and happy birthday.

I had forgotten.

After Easter Mass, John had to go run an errand. Milly protested. He said it was for Massey. He said it quietly-I barely heard him- but he said it. When I got home, I went in the living room to watch Mickey Mouse, as I had done frequently recently. The t.v. was gone. I sat and stared at the spot that the carpet showed it had been in until John came home.

I heard him talking to Milly in the kitchen and used my cursed gift of good hearing.

"She's just been staring at it like the t.s.'s there all day. She's hasn't eaten today either. I don't know what's wrong with her. All she wanted to know is if Eugene was coming back soon."

"She likes Eugene."

"That's another thing that bothers me. What's that old man doing hanging around her all the time, anyway?"

"Milly,"

"All I'm saying is that there's no need for any of that. Why don't we get someone young and female."

"Someone like Marie?"

"No! You know I caught her smoking in the house today?"

"I'll tell her Eugene comes back in a week. It may cheer her up."

"I think the only thin that'll make her happy would be if you threw he back to those useless brothers of hers."

Anger swelled hot up inside me and twisted like a dying snake.

"Milly!"

"What? They _are_ useless. It's not normal, that's all I'm saying. She a little girl who doesn't like dolls, or dresses, or pink. She wants to play baseball and follow around gangsters. I am trying, but I'm not a miracle worker, John."

"She makes good grades and plays the piano well. Now, all we have to do is find her something she likes as much as baseball."

Good luck, I thought.

"Listen, I think I've come up with a good little idea for her birthday next week. I'll tell you later. Right now I'm going to take a nap before dinner. I'm exhausted."

He sounded it too.

He came in and stood behind me.

"Have an okay day at school, Baby?"

I nodded.

"Get into any trouble."

I shook my head.

"Good. You miss that awful old box?"

I nodded again.

"Well, it's not good for children's eye staring at a tiny screen for hours. Besides, it was the only thing that would hush her up."

I cringed.

"Its' only a t.v. Find something else to play with until dinner."

It wasn't **just **a t.v. He didn't understand. No one did. Eugene might have, but he wasn't there. Everyday that I had watched Mickey Mouse, it was because I knew that my brothers and the gang we doing the same thing at the house there. It was my last link to them. Now it was gone. Rather than try and to explain it, I went upstairs and tried to draw a picture of Mickey Mouse. Nelly and Miles had offered to mail pictures and letters to my brothers for me. I sent this one to Emily. I hadn't sent anything to my brothers yet because I didn't want to make it harder on them like Darry said.

Etiquette classes were over, which should have been a blessed event, but to celebrate Milly had planned a fancy dinner of important people in the neighborhood at which I would allowed to eat with them to exemplify my newly acquired manners. I thought it was to show off how much I had learned in the classes and how good I was at it. I was sadly mistaken. However, the night turned out to be very enlightening.

There were 9 guests, myself, John and Milly present. I was required to wear an evening dress, which I went shopping for with Milly. I had to admit, as tomboyish as I was, the baby blue, fluffy dress was very pretty. Milly flattered me as I exited the dressing room and passing strangers complemented her on having a beautiful child. I blushed heavily. I blushed heavily again when I saw how much the dress rang up for. I waited for the uncomfortable cough and quiet voice telling me :"On second thought, let's look somewhere else," but it never came. Milly bought me the most expensive thing I had ever owned, without a second thought. I asked on the way out.

"Isn't it a bit expensive?"

"It's an important night," she winked, "Besides, I'm the adult, let me worry about the money. You're much to young for that."

I nodded. That night, all dressed up, I did feel a little special. Standing before the mirror I had a stroke of brilliance. I went quietly into the master bedroom for the first time and looked around for the camera. I found it in the closet and tried to remove it without rustling anything. I steeped off the box I was standing on and turned around to face the door, but found myself facing something else all together. John. He did not look thrilled to see me. I sort of let slip a tiny gasp and the camera fell from my hands. I squeezed my eyes shut, awaiting the awful, breaking crash. It did not come. I opened one eye cautiously to spy john standing inches from me. The camera caught in his hands. I was impressed.

"Wow. Did you catch that?"

He continued to frown and I thought of the noises I had heard when he had gotten angry with Milly; the deep yells that shook things, the crashed, the hard smacks, the dark bruises and cuts. I shivered.

"Sorry." I breathed. When I dared a glance up again, he was smiling. Not much, mind you, but still smiling. I showed my confusion.

"Sneaking the camera, were we?"

"Sorry." I repeated.

"It's all right. Did you want to take your picture in your new dress?"

"Yes."

He lifted the camera and readied it.

"Smile."

I tried, but it wouldn't work.

"Come on, smile."

I tried again.

"Think about me trying to dance," He whispered. That did it.

I stood at the door with Milly as she introduced me to all the guests. One was the preacher, 7 couples frm the neighborhood, and Milly's unmarried friend and next door neighbor, Jean. Each time she said my name she said it quickly as if trying to get it out fast and avoid embarrassment. It made me feel like a band-aid that must be ripped off quickly to make it less painless. Let me tell you, I did not like feeling like a band-aid.

Still we waited. We waited until the door opened to reveal our final visitor, a man I had never laid eyes on before. This man was very tall with grey, almost white, hair and cool brown eyes. His skin was olive and healthy in complexion, but it failed to hide his age. He was definitely at retirement time, but seemed very business like. Everyone gave their regards to this man as he entered. He held himself with a certain pride and dignity, like Dally but with money. I had never seen anything like it. If his appearance wasn't striking enough, his introduction certainly was. He knelled down to my level and kissed my hand like I was a princess.

Then, Milly said: "Babygirl, this gentleman is Mr. Massey."

_**A/N:** Cliff-hanger anyone?To those more vigilant readers, there were probably a bunch of little mistakes in here, but I had to write it kind of fast and I was babysitting. Sorry. Please review! _


	13. Good Enough

**Disclaimer:** Please see previous chapters.

_**A/N:** I noticed only 3 people reviewed the last chapter! A special thanks to those who did. I'm really glad you liked it. If you didn't see or get my message about chapter 12, please let me know what you think when you do read it. If you read it and didn't leave a review because it was awful, please tell me what to change in this chapter's review. This is just sort of a developmental chapter, but a lot happens. Hope you enjoy the length! We start off just where last chapter's cliff-hanger left off._

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person."_

**Chapter 13:** Good Enough

The moment seemed suspended in a mix of awkward tension and surreal realization. Here was the man that owned the city. Here was the man whose words could decide people's fate. Here, right before me, stood the kindly looking man whose very presence seemed to vindicate those oaths of respect the governors, senators, lawyers, and judges held for him. So, this was Mr. Massey.

"N-Nice to meet you Mr. Massey, sir." I heard myself answer half a second too late. He nodded politely in return, ignoring the stumble.

I tried not to stare during dinner. I thought little of interrupting, as I usually did. I knew, almost without effort, that the short fork was for salad; which I ate, although I don't like it. I planted my napkin neatly in my lap and held my fork and glass gingerly, with pinky raised. I chewed quietly, as if trying hard not wake someone with ultra sensitive hearing, like Darry. Meanwhile, when I dared, I watched Massey closely for- well, I'm not exactly sure what I was hoping to see to prove this was the great man I had heard about; whatever I was searching for, I didn't come across it.

After salad, we had to wait about twenty minutes for Marie to bring out the second course. Milly looked like her seat was pricking her in the butt. I sort of understood her dilemma. If she stood up, it looked badly organized, but if she sat there much longer, then everyone would starve. When Marie finally did come out, I thought Milly would have a heart attack. Marie had swagged in carrying too many plates in way that could be considered nothing other than ungraceful, and, to top it off, from her mouth rudely protruded- horror of horrors- a cigarette! Milly's eyes were wide and furious as a rodeo bull. I half expected her to snort flames at any moment. John's, on the other hand, were closed as if he either had a headache, was praying carefully, or expected someone to swat him any minute.

For a second I thought she was going to lose it right then and there, but she quickly regained her composure and sent a look Marie's way when no one was looking. I would not want it directed at me. I was surprised to see that by dessert, I hadn't spoken hardly a word. Actually, the only time I said anything was when someone asked me how school was. That's what people ask kids when they don't know what else to say to them. I said "Fine, thank you." and grinned like a Cheshire cat, or a Two-Bit (depending on how you want to look at it). John nearly snorted into his wine. I almost panicked, thinking I looked stupid, but from the look on Milly's lady friend's face I must have done something cute. I even perfectly hid my disgust.

Waiting for the meal to end, I reflected on my performance. I hadn't dropped food in my lap and hadn't made a mistake yet. Silently cheering for myself, I celebrated with my cheesecake.

Everything was smooth sailing until the conversation turned to me.

"I am simply in awe at you're the metamorphosis this young lady has undergone in your care." Milly's friend mused.

I thought, huh?

"She looks so naturally dignified."

"She's making excellent grades and they bring her to Mass every Sunday." the priest put in.

"Thank you. I'm afraid I can't take all the credit, however."

Credit for what?

"I'm sure much of it has to do with it being your Mass, father Brendon. She's been taking etiquette classes the school offered too. I would suggest them to every mother of a little girl."

Wait! I made good grades before I came here. Etiquette classes were my idea!

"She takes piano and ballet as well, does she not?" asked some lady.

"She only takes piano now."

"We heard her play. She's gifted. Imagine that talent going to waste." a gentleman shook his head.

"Thank you. Yes, she doesn't have time to accomplish both now, so we try to limit the schedule. You know how it can get." they laughed and nodded as if they knew exactly what she meant and hadn't meant.

"Of course some things are just in the genes." Milly raised a harsh eyebrow.

"Ah. The battle of psychology: inherent or environmental?" John faithfully changed the subject.

I didn't speak. Maybe I was just too shocked. Maybe I did not understand or was not able to articulate just how seriously they had degraded my achievements and directly insulted my family and upbringing. I may have been to young to understand what exactly had happened, but I felt the anger and pain from it as much as was possible. What's worse, I was confused.

They spoke about me as if I weren't there. They didn't compliment me, they gave credit to Milly. They held tones that made it appear that they were talking about some Tarzan they had tried to civilize from the dark jungles of Africa. My hands were shaking. I felt sick. I reached for my glass and then it happened- it tipped slowly and helplessly and spilled all over the beautiful white-lace table cloth. I burst into tears. Milly and John leapt from their chairs.

"What were you doing?" Milly snarled in my ear, taking my napkin to clean it up and calling Maire.

"Excuse the little mess," She said pleasantly to our guests. I was glad that I couldn't see them staring at me through my tear filled eyes. Marie came in.

John leaned over: "It's only a spilled drink, Baby."

"Hush." Milly snapped. I did. It got quiet. I think they heard her, so I shut my trap and sat through the rest of the dinner with my lip trembling lip. Afterwards, trying not to slouch, I said good evening to all the guests, who seemed politely unfazed enough by my outburst. Mr. Massey stayed later for coffee. Apparently they were going to talk in the living room. John said to say goodnight, and I did.

Marie took me to the stairs as if taking me to my room, but I took off without her. I threw myself harshly down on the bed and cried and cried and cried. I hit my pillow with frustration. I threw it off the bed as hard as I could. I kicked the blankets wildly. I had a nice little tantrum. It had been a while since I had one of those. It felt good, but I still felt awful. Everyone was trying to change me. Everyone. Why wasn't I good enough?

On the Tuesday I woke up to find it was my birthday, I tried especially hard not to think about my brothers. I tried and failed. I thought about how they Soda came bounding into my room on my last birthday, jumped on my bed, and sang at the top of his lungs. He made me a birthday cake with blue icing letters on it. I remembered Darry letting me sleep in and saving up money for that new bat I wanted. I remember Pony taking my turn at the dishes and letting me hang out with him. I had dreaded my birthday because it was only a few weeks after mom and dad's deaths, but my brothers had made sure it was okay. Without my brothers here to do it for me, I would have to make the best of the day for myself.

I walked downstairs and went to breakfast to find we were having extravagant breakfast and leaving for a short outing. I felt a little uneasy excitement. Where the heck were we going?

That question was soon answered. We arrived at place just outside of town with large white fences and a long entrance drive. The drive was lined by large oak trees and willows up to a huge, white, plantation style house. The gravel curved to the right, and we followed it past the house to open fields dotted with the nicest stables I had ever laid eyes on.

Horses! The animals had always excited me. Rodeos had been my dream. Nothing could compare to the thrill watching the guys bull ride and the girls race by on horse back. As we stepped out fo the car, I felt as awake and alive as I had in days. I felt the anxious excitement that comes before a baseball game rising in me. I felt the fresh air in my lungs again.

John stepped from the car and I was at his heels instantly.

"So, would you like to go riding?"

"Yeah!" I yelled.

Moments later, I was stroking a black gelding as a stableman saddled him. I tried to remember the few times I had ridden and what I had read or be told. Okay, I told myself as he backed up. Step up to the left side of the horse. Place left foot all the way up into the stirrup with hand on saddle horn and mane. Bounce and pull yourself up. Swing right foot over and sit deep. Feet in the stirrups; heels down and toes pointing up. Hold the reins correctly. Sit straight and relax legs.

"Great posture." the stableman exclaimed. "Do you take lessons?"

I shook my head with my usual shyness. "You should. We offer them here, you know. You could come out and get proper instruction once or twice a week for a few dollars."

"Would you like that?" John asked me, petting the horse's neck.

"Yes." I answered, nearly breathless with hope.

"I think that can be arranged. Who do I see?"

"That'd be my manager after today's session. We also board horses and give lesson on your own animal."

We went into a riding rink and he led it around a while. Then he let me do it.

"Alright, Baby, give him a tap and try trotting. Move with him, though. One. Two. One. Two. Feel it? It's a tow beat gait. Can you post?" I got tired fast, but didn't want to quit. He let me walk him a while longer, but it was over all too soon.

"Thank you." I said to John, removing my helmet, walking back to the barn. "That was the best birthday present ever." for a moment, I felt I had hurt my family's feelings, but it was true. This is what Darry was talking about, wasn't it? And what was that Nelly and Emily had said they would do? Milk the money and enjoy it.

John smiled and laughed a little. "You're welcome, but, Baby, that wasn't your present."

"Oh."

"I just thought you'd enjoy it. I had a little help though."

"You did?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"I called your brother and told him you'd been kind of quiet. I asked him what he thought you want to do if you could do anything. He said buy you a pony and take you riding twice a week. Then, you'd be happy. Mr. Massey suggested this place. He breeds thuroughbreds here."

"Oh. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

I couldn't believe he had called my brother to find out what I wanted. That was, well, thoughtful. Looking around I learned something else: they weren't kidding; Massey was really loaded.

"You think Milly would be okay with me taking lessons?"

"I think I can convince her it's respectable. Lessons are classy enough and horses are a rather lofty status symbol, if that's what you're worried about. Now, for your present."

"Huh?"

We walked past the first stable and went to a smaller set of them in the back. It was surrounded by horse trailers. A nicely dressed man with a thick Italian accent was standing there waiting for someone. I surprised to find it was us he was awaiting with such a smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Densey. I think I have a few that will interest you."

He then proceeded to show us a few horses. There was a thoroughbred; a young one, very expensive, but fiery. He had a heritage that could be traced back to the great Man-of-War. He talked about that one for a long time, but John insisted it was not for amateur horse owners. There was an older stallion, Palomino. He came from Mexico, and his name was Diablo. John seemed to like him and I did too. There was a white Arabian who seemed too spirited and another thoroughbred. It was one they picked up from a moving family. This one on the end wasn't the prettiest. He wasn't the calmest, or the friendliest. He was mousy brown and had a mischievous character in his face. I recognized that horse.

"Mickey Mouse!"

"What?" John asked.

"I know that horse. That's Soda's-em, friend."

"Sir, this is one is fine, yes, but not of finest quality. He was just bargain. You need one of dignity."

"Mickey Mouse has dignity." I insisted. John cracked up.

"Yes. Yes he does," he chocked out. Then, turning to me, he said: "Do you want him?"

I scoffed. "Yeah. Of course I want him."

Then I heard the very last thing I'd ever expected to hear: "Alright."

We walked towards the office to sign papers and set up lesson schedules. I watched him pull out a wad of neatly folded tens and I thought I was literally going to faint. I was going to far with this taking advantage of this.

"You've got to go shopping with Milly later for your riding clothes and such."

I gaped at him. "Close your mouth, Baby you look like a fish."

"Are you serious?" I stammered out.

"Yes. Go look at your reflections in the pond over there." The pond was beautiful, especially such plush green fields, but that was far from the point.

"No, I mean-" I stopped. What did I mean. Then it just sort of fell out of my mouth. "That's a lot of money."

He stopped. "So?"

"I'm not trying to be rude about your gift, I mean I love it, but don't you think that's a lot for a ten year old birthday?"

He thought for a moment. "Yes."

"Then why?"

"Let me ask you something? Why do think you're here anyway?"

I paused. "Because you took me in to be nice and to help fix Milly."

"What?" he asked.

"To help Milly."

"Who told you that?" His tone was different now.

"No one," I answered.

"Who was it?" He asked, sounding dangerous and grabbing my shoulders. "Was Eugene? Was it?" He shook me.

"I don't know!" I chocked. "I don't know!"

He stopped remembering himself.

"Mr. Densey? Everything alright." a man asked.

"Fine."

"Okay." the man said and walked away.

"Look, Baby. I want you to be happy. I can afford this and I want to do it. You've been an awfully good girl, why shouldn't you get it then?"

"I don't know," I honestly answered. "It feels wrong. Does it have to be so much. I don't want to be spoiled and selfish."

He sighed. "Baby, you are not spoiled or selfish, so don't worry about it. Now, I am buying this horse for you."

"Why?"

He sounded exasperated. "I am so sick of you thinking you don't deserve it. I so sick of you looking at the life you have now and because you're used to living in less fortunate circumstances, thinking you're not good enough for it. You're good enough, Baby. You're good enough."

I practically jumped on him, hugging him tightly. I held on for dear life and heard my straggled voice croak out another thank you. He wrapped his arms around me to as I breathed in his smell and felt better. His hands laying gently on my hair, I heard him whisper: "Happy birthday."

_**A/N:** Please review! For those counting: 3 chapter left (& epilogue). After that I will start my new story. Thanks for your support thus far!_


	14. Courtroom Proceedings

**Disclaimer:**Please see previous chapters.

_**A/N:**__ I noticed I made a mistake. Darry said she may be able to go to Disney World, but Disney World wasn't open until 1966 and I set it in earlier 1960s because of the Elvis appearance on Ed Sullivan. I like to be accurate, and, although no one caught it, I want to apologize. That being said, I was very happy with the influx of reviews! Apparently, there was an error with the site and it didn't send e-mails out for a while. Feel free to go back and review the skipped chapter any time. I still look. Thanks for the great compliments. I'm really glad you like it!_ _I hope you like this one as well. Look for possible surprises and a very long speech._

**Babygirl**

"_Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 14:** Courtroom Proceedings

Although I never thought it possible, I now had my own horse and enjoyed going to lessons twice a week. No more ballet. No more etiquette. No more Sarah. Days became more bearable and even more predictable. School was the same. I sat with Nelly and Miles, tried to stay out of trouble, and read like mad. I still went to Mass and piano, but neither were too miserable.

One night, Milly and John went to a nice party, and, dressed to the nines, they left me with Marie. I was glad. John did me a huge favor by allowing Nelly to come over. It was a blast!

We played with all my junk and made a great Christmas list, including her stuff on it. We feasted on fruit, cookies, and grilled cheese. Then, we snuck around the house. We searched for money and found 37 cents. We searched for "weird grown-up stuff "and found nothing. We did have a little wine when Marie was distracted. We played a practical joke on her too and boy did she raise hell! We searched Milly and John's room and found a bottle of pills called "anti-depressants". We decided to ask Miles what that meant.

That was the end of our oh-so-incredible adventure for the evening. We went outside and played baseball until really late. We fell asleep around 11:00 pm, and I awoke the next morning to find the house eerie quiet. I went into the kitchen to find a Saturday morning breakfast of English Muffins laid out, and, smiling above them, none other than a pleasant looking Eugene!

"Eugene!" I practically squealed, and I, in case you haven't already figured, am not much of a squealer.

"Hey Baby!"

As I came around to give him a big hug around the waste, I found that was going to be impossible, unless I was about 3 feet high. Eugene was a wheelchair, like Johnny. My stomach fell about 4 feet.

"Eugene, what's wrong with your legs?" Not the most tactful, delicate way to put it.

"Nothing. Not a thing. I'm just supposed take it easy and not do to much lifting or walking around. It'll be best for my heart, you know. My heart's what did it."

"Oh."

"I don't get a hug?" I was careful, but I held on like glue.

"Eat your breakfast, girl." I grabbed a muffin as Nelly came in, rubbing her eyes.

"Nelly, this is Eugene."

"Hey, man? How's it goin'?"

"It's goin' all right." Eugene laughed. I felt good again to hear his laugh in this house.

It was then I saw the paper that brought me back to earth.

"Heros or Delinquents? Justice of Forgiveness? Today's trail decides."

It was like: the farther I tried to get away from my past, the faster it chased after me, until I was running from it even though I had never wanted to. I was kinda scared to slow down by now, but the paper pulled me to a stop.

"Eugene. I wanna go."

"Oh, Baby. I don't know about that..."

"Well, I do. I _have_ to go."

"Well, I can't drive. How you gonna get there?"

"I know somebody who can take us," Nelly pipped up. I turned to gaze at her questioningly. "I can even take us there. No problem. You'll cover for us, right?"

"So long as its safe, I guess I could."

"Thanks."

"Thanks."

We left. 'Well,' I thought, as we made our way to the bus stop, 'if this isn't the blind leading the blind...'

"Where are we going?"

"Miles'," She said, as if it was obvious as day.

Taking the bus would have been exciting, if my stomach hadn't felt as if it would give out at any moment. Once we arrived, we walked around the neighborhood, looking for a mail box with his last name on it. Eventually, we found the matching box outside of a big iron gate.

Miles had the nicest house I'd ever seen. Not only was it huge, but it also had plethora of workers outside, some just landscaping. He had his own fountain in front! We got to the giant front door and it was opened by an elderly woman who must have been- from what Miles had to us- Ms. Kings. She seemed nice enough. She invited us in, and I was careful not to touch anything. Nelly was a different story.

"Wow, check this out! I don't even know what it is, but I think I want one."

I rolled my eyes. Miles came down the left side of a wrap staircase. He scrambled down, looking like just like he always did (only more surprised and even smaller than usual in his surroundings). Everything here seemed big, too big.

"Hey!"

"Hey! Could we ride with you to the courthouse?" Nelly didn't beat around the bush.

"I wasn't gonna go, but my dad is going with grandpa, so, yeah we can go...on one condition."

"Name it."

"You guys come back here after for lunch and we play ball and finish Robinson Caruso."

"Deal."

"Deal." We spit shook on it. That's when his dad walked in his fancy suit talking to-WHO?!

"Grandpopa, can my friends join us?"

"Sure."

As we left I whispered unbelievingly and harshly to Nelly: "You never bothered to tell me that Miles' grandpa was **Massey**?"

"You never asked." She looked incredulously. "He's his mother's father. Miles' dad works for him, and when Delia (his mom) left, he gave them this house. Make-up money as we call it."

"How do you know? He told you all that?" I was a little hurt that Miles hadn't told me.

"Heck no! I found out through my own, secret sources." I raised an eyebrow, unsure of whether to believe her or not.

"What's he doing going there?"

"He's representing Johnny and Pony."

"What? Johnny's a hood, and Pony's-!"

"Maybe John really likes you." Well, that was a concept.

The trial was slow and painstaking. It was horrible, hellish torture in its truest form. Not knowing whether your family would be split up despite all everyone had done to save it, and to waiting to have a group of nobodies decide if your brother and best friend were going to prison was the last way anyone intended to spend their Saturday. Nevertheless, that was the story for us. Good old Curtis law again, I guess.

From where I was sitting, I could see them sweat, both from their stifling, uncomfortable suits, and the nerves that were being pressed hard. I could hear their voices shake a little when they had to stand up to talk. I could see Soda gripping Pony's hand and Dally's arm around Johnny's shoulders.

I felt bad for Bob's family too. They were real tore up.

Then, Massey made his closing argument.

"In cases where the defendant claims self-defense, the precedent has consistently been that the court closely examines the statements made by the suspect and, if at all possible, any witness there may have been of the events, before, or after. A motive for the supposed attacker must be established. Most importantly, the credibility, and thus character, of each party involved must also be painstakingly scrutinized. It is my belief that, in these last several hours, this court has accomplished just that.

"In this particular case, we have two witnesses and their stories match the boys' to a tea. These two witnesses were, and remain, friends of the victim to this day. We can therefore interpret their words as true, or as close to the truth as we will get.

"As for the motive, it was made clear by the witnesses I spoke of. They boys were jealous and intoxicated. They attacked these younger men to fight them over a girl, and the alcohol allowed things to get carried away. A party involved in the fight and, again, close friend of the victim, openly admits these facts. There's your motive.

"Last but not least, what about the credibility of our witnesses and, most especially, the accused? Randy, over here, is a star athlete with no criminal record; Cherry Valence: a star student and role-model in her school (where she is active in class and cheerleading). This young man, Mr. Curtis, has just recently lost both parents, and, while both his loving brothers work, he attends school where he is at the top of his class. He was attacked, and nearly drowned, then fled with his friend out of fear, or obligation, but came back and turned himself in. There should be no question of his innocence in this case. I reiterate, none of these young people have ever been in any trouble with the legal system.

"However, what of this young man here? This boy who has been in trouble with law, who doesn't go to school, with scars from gang fights, and accompanied by his delinquent pals- what of him? I'll tell you. He stabbed a young man and watched him die! He knowingly buried the weapon, left the body, and fled with his younger friend to a secret location to hide from the consequences!"

OH CRAP!

"Yes. That is what the prosecution is going to say. Do you know why? Because it makes him sound like a cold blooded, piece of white trash that got into another gang fight, killed a boy, and ran from the police hoping to escape justice and save his own hide. Meanwhile, he involved a 14-year-old orphan to lessen the sentence on himself. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that's just not true.

"This young man, his name is Johnny Cade. He dropped out of school, like a lot of kids his age, probably because he never had a reason to go or someone who made him. He's gotten caught in a couple misdemeanors, but nothing of a malicious nature. Sure, he's hand his hand caught in the cookie jar a few times, but who his age hasn't? I'm not excusing it, but shoplifting at 13 is no evidence of a murderer.

"These scars you see ladies and gentlemen, that make him look like a hood, are, in fact, the opposite. These scars are a testimony to his character. Yes, his character. Johnny comes from an under-privileged home of abuse and neglect. These young, so called, delinquents you see with him today, are his friends, just as these young men on the front row, and Randy, are friends of the victim. Johnny's parents, still living, are not here today. This scar on Johnny's face is from an attack made by the victim and his friends months before the night in question. Johnny was walking home alone, when eight young men came at him and beat him to a bloody pulp! Eight to one says something of the character of those boys.

"Was it revenge he sought out on the night in question, as the prosecution has proposed? I think not. Had he been set on revenge he would have been the one tracking down these boys. He would have been in their neighborhood that evening.

"Lastly, did he kill the victim? Did he? Yes. He killed the boy, much bigger than he was while outnumbered by he and his friends, with a knife he carried since the last attack for self-defense. But was it self-defense? Frankly, I don't think so,"

WHAT?!

"You have to remember that there was something else going on at that time. A few feet away, Johnny's younger friend, Ponyboy, was being drowned in a freezing fountain by a gang of larger, older, drunken, and enraged boys. Johnny pulled the knife out of his pocket and stabbed one of those boys to break up the fight and scare them away. That young man died, but had Johnny not interfered, it is my opinion that we would be here today trying that young man for the murder of this one. The prosecution will disagree. He will call Johnny Cade a hood and say that he killed that boy out of anger, and we cannot prove that he is the type of person who would go to those lengths to save his friends. But we can. How?

"Johnny Cade, as you probably saw, has many other scars on his arms. You will also have noticed he had to make his statements from his seat here. That is because this young man is bound to wheelchair for th rest of his life. Why, you ask? How? The prosecution will protest that this is irrelevant, but it is, in fact, completely relevant to evidence of his character, which, as we agreed, is of utmost importance in a case such as this.

"Johnny was hiding out in the country of Windrixville, outside of Tulsa, for a week with his friend. When this young man here came to visit them and take them back to town, they went to an abandoned building they had stayed in to find it in engulfed in flames, inside of it trapped ten helpless school children. He, and his friends, charged into that burning building and saved every single one of those small, innocent children from being scorched alive in a matter of minutes. The building collapsed on Johnny, breaking his back and severely burning him. He has just recently been released from months in the hospital. How many of us would have done ths same? Who are we to judge the quality of character in this hero, because he dresses like a hood and wears hair grease? This event shows that he has the type of character to risk his life for strangers. Is it not certain that if he would do that for children he doesn't know, would he not stab someone to protect his friends, his family to him? Have we forgotten that he came back and turned himself in as well? Does that not say that he was remorseful for the death of the young man?

"The prosecution will demand justice for the victim. The victim. Yes Bob was a victim, and you will notice that I referred to him always as nothing but that. Bob was victim of society and ignorance. He was a victim of popularity and alcohol and a lack of boundaries. Bob was killed. He was killed by Johnny Cade. Johnny... is not innocent. He knows that. We cannot call him innocent. That does not, however, make him a murderer. Maybe Bob asked for it, maybe not. It is not for us to decide. What you must decide, ladies and gentlemen, is if you are going to sentence this young man, still in recovery, to prison for trying to save the lives of himself and his best friend?"

After that, it didn't make much difference to me, or anyone else for that matter, what the prosecution said. I knew what the right things was, but would the jury agree? Would they side with the grieving family of respectable members of society, or the rough-tough boys who were forced to defend themselves? Would saving kids be enough to save Johnny from the consequences of stabbing one? Would my brothers be judged, for once, on their quality of character and hard work, instead of the grease in their hair and the size of their measly paycheck?

Waiting. Sweating. I thought they would never come to a decision. Just as I felt as though I couldn't stand it anymore, the jury came out and the judge thought for minute at the piece of paper before him.

We were told to rise for the verdict.

While no could have guessed what he was about to say, a few things left in the world were for sure. First, that most people in that room wouldn't accept any amount of money to be in those front seats; second, that the people in those seats would pay any amount of money not to be there; and thirdly that if they had only let me up there, I would have sat in those chairs for free. I wanted to be with my brothers for the sentencing, but I watched the courtroom proceedings from afar. I don't think they even saw I was there. They sure wouldn't have been expecting me. Kids this young weren't even supposed to be in here, but no one was about to say that to Mr. Massey.

The judge rattled on with the preface until he finally got to Johnny's case.

"In the case of Jonathan Levi Cade, we, the people, find the defendant:

_**A/N:**__ I'm sorry! I'm evil, I know, I know. Review and I'll up-date really soon! The more reviews, the faster! Well, did I manage to surprise you at all? Massey was Miles' grandfather! Eugene is back! I realize the court scene may not have been legally accurate. I tried to look up something on sentencing laws in 1963, but I guess I was looking in the wrong places. Please excuse any errors. (I hope to study law so if I ever find out, I'll tell you.) Other than that, please tell me what you thought! I'm dying to know!_


	15. The Guilty

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.

_**A/N:** I want to appologize for the super long wait. I never meant to leave a cliff-hanger for that long, but I had some trouble sorting out the last chapters. There was a lot going on in my personal life and I had a lot to do, but not anymore! The story is all done now, so there will be no more delays. There will be one chapter after this, and then the epilogue. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for being pateint and for all your help thus far! **Warning:** Violence in this chapter. If it disturbs you, then don't read._

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 15:** The Guilty

"In the case of Jonathan Levi Cade, we, the people, find the defendant: guilty of manslaughter in self-defense. This court sentences him to two years in prison, and suspends the sentence, based on Mr. Cade's current health issues.

"In the case of Mr. Ponyboy Curtis, this state finds the defendant: innocent without question. Therefore, Ponyboy Curtis is free to go. As for the question of custody: he shall remain in the care of his older brother Darrel Curtis at this time. Court is adjourned."

Some people looked outraged, others relieved that it was all over. I didn't care. All I could see was the boys jumping and hugging and hollering in the court room. They looked like fools, and I had never wanted more in my life to look like a fool than I did right then.

When I returned to Miles' house, we had an afternoon of carefree fun. It was nice for a change. I didn't worry about trials, fights, heart-attacks, or much of anything really. I just played.

I asked Miles what anti-depressants were and he told me that they were pills to help mentally sick , really sad, depressed people feel better. They must have been Milly's.

I was driven home by Mr. Kings. He was a kind, white-haired, old man. Eugene apparently knew him and they talked for a while. Heading to the door I realized something was amiss. I didn't see anything odd, really. Instead, I felt it sinking in the pit of my stomach. It was a cold shudder in the heat of summer. It was a tightening in my chest that I couldn't explain, even if I had wanted to.

As I opened the door, I saw the first sign that something was wrong: plates were out, a vase shattered and left, dripping water off the hard, clean tiles. It was eerie quiet at first, and then that moment of haunted peace was shattered- quite literally.

I heard that wretched screaming coming from the living room, following the clatter. I was about to be sick right there on the kitchen floor. I heard blood wishing past in my ears, until I began-vaguely, distantly- to make out a few words.

John was shouting: "Milly. Milly. Milly!"

It was like he was sick of something and running out of patience, and sanity. I had never, EVER, been afraid in my own home, and it was the most alien feeling I had felt so far. It was also one, I was determined, I was not going to become accustomed to.

Perhaps a bit rash, but I figured: if I was going to do something, I was going to go all out. So after I burst through the door, I ran straight at the first sight of a red-faced, out-of-breath John. I balled my fists up and began hitting him in the chest, inexplicable tears burning my cheeks as I did so. He looked confused, stumbling for a moment, and grabbed my wrists roughly. I felt trapped and panicked. I had only just registered that it had all really happened.

Suddenly, I heard the most surprising sound I'd ever heard. A roar, for there was simply no other word for it, rose up behind me. It was a malicious, and rabid, human growl. I whipped my head around quickly to see, to my utter disbelief, an enraged Milly, eyes bugling like a mad horse, hair tossed and tattered about, lifting a vase above her head. Was she truly going to go this far to defend me?

Then it came at me. The vase crossed the room in seconds, whizzing, and before I even saw her throw it, it had hit the wall beside my head. My face and body were already turned around, facing the neatly painted wall. I was so confused as to how I got there, until I heard the thud of a candle holder centerpiece hitting John in the back and the groan of pain he let out behind me.

Milly had just attack us! What was going on?

Eugene was in the corner with an hugely uncharacteristic, disgusted frown on his face. It was horrible. He moved again towards her, in an attempt to get hold of her and calm her back down, I think. He turned towards me, trying to keep her in his arms as she screamed and jerked like his touch was burning her skin, and said with a startling calm: "Baby, go to your room, please."

I turned and went to my room, eyes wide, heart pounding, body numb. Not able to think of anything else to do, I turned on the radio to drown out other sounds and pulled Treasure Island from off the shelf.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't focus on the book. Things from the past month kept flooding over me. The pills. Milly's problem. John tired expression. His gentleness with Milly after the first fight. I had assumed it was John, although I had never actually seen him hit her. It was Milly who was sick, wasn't it? Milly was the one starting it. How could someone so crazy look so presentable? It shuddered and got up to shut my door all the way. It used to make me feel better to have it open. It didn't now.

John had thought, had hoped, a child may help Milly feel happier, busier, calmer. It hadn't.

What would he say at the trial? What would I say, if asked? I would say, I decided, what I had been saying all along: I want to go home. In fact, I said it over and over waiting for sleep to come.

When I woke up in the morning, I was still on the South side.

_A/N: Well, what did you think? Anything surprising? Sorry for any mistakes I didn't catch. It's kinda hard to focus when you're sick. Next chapter is longer, but that's how I needed this one. Any suggestions or things you'd like to see happen? Please tell me! Thanks for reading!_


	16. Still The South Side II

**Discalimer: **See previous chapters.

_**A/N:** Here it is: the final chapter. Don't worry it's longer than the last one. It's been a great journey. I truly hope this satisfies you guys who have been faithfully reading this story. It was the hardest bit to write. It also has a lot of violence in it so, if that bothers you, don't read. Also, if it does, why do like The Outsiders so much? As always, please leave feedback._

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Chapter 16:** Still the South Side II

Days passed without inceidence. Days went on like a train in the middle of your goodnight's sleep. I waited for the train to end, but as one passed others took its place in a weary, vicious cycle.

It's funny when sometimes things happen don't seem like a big deal at and then they change your life forever. Well, one day sister Treadwell asked me what was bothering me and I told her, casually, of John and Milly fighting was bothering me. She shook her head in understanding, then quickly excused herself. She had a meeting, I guessed. I guessed wrong.

She went to the Priest. Apparently, _she_ didn't know that things were rough all over. They didn't think I ought to be in a home like that. They, a clergy authority and expert in child care, filed charges against Milly and John.

I came home to find Eugene no where in sight. Milly wasn't at dinner. John was quiet. I asked him what was wrong. He apologized for me having to go through another custody battle. He said Eugene had to be fired because, after 18 years, he'd finally betrayed the family trust. I chocked on my pot roast. I knew I was supposed to confess. I even wanted too. I didn't. I only excused myself from the table. I lay in room, listening to trains once more, wondering how one ignorant conversation hand managed to mess up our lives.

"Well done, Baby," I told myself.

Nelly and Miles were good friends about it. Emily sent word to my brothers. Miles assured me that his grandfather would be working on the case. Nelly promised that, if I was sent to an orphanage, it wouldn't be so bad because we'd be together.

It's strange how the course of things can change so quickly and irrevocably. What could I do? It was like standing in the middle of a creek, trying to stop the water from flowing. It was hopeless, so I stood still and let it run over me. I wasn't to be in the courtroom this time. They didn't even question me. I was told later a bit about the battle.

John was questioned and he said that he had hit Milly when she'd gotten out of control in an argument, but that was private affair and that it was not related to his childrearing. No one would ever say he'd hurt me. They looked for witnesses, but of course there were none to find. As Miles had promised, Massey won the trial, but John was a new person to me. I had just begun to realize who he had been for me. What he had done in that court, denying Milly's problem at risk to his own life and reputation, had been noble and -what was the word?-maybe ... gallant.

The trial had lasted a long time and I had fallen asleep on the way home. I woke up to find John tucking me into bed. I grabbed his hand gently in the dark. He looked surprised. I lifted my arms up to him, finally childlike, pathetic, and innocent. I got my hug and I think it did as much for him as it did for me. Maybe life wouldn't be so bad if I had John around. Maybe life for John would be better with me around.

The school year was drawing to a close. I behaved, as difficult as it was. Eugene mysteriously appeared back at work. My grades were straight "A"s on my last report card. I had progressed to jumps in ridding lessons and to Beethoven in piano. As a reward for my grades, the t.v. made its great return.

It was week into summer before the events in my life were about to took another turn for the worst. We were going out to see a movie together and were waiting on John to come home. In the kitchen we eating a little someting. I eyed Milly carefully.

She was agitated. She was looking for the change off the counter. She was getting restless. Eugene was a deer caught in the headlights of a really big truck. He couldn't afford to slip on the counter top now. I had a sudden thought. I exited and went to my room as she threw questions at him that he answered with a steady stream of lies.

"No ma'am. No ma'am." What did it matter? To her it was few cents.

I had a few cents from when Nelly had helped me search the house. I tried to slip it on to the counter. the woman was crazy, and we could just tell her and John the money had been there the whole time. The problem was: crazy don't mean stupid. She grabbed my hand as I dropped the coins onto the tiles. She drug me by the wrist into the living room. Eugene moved his chair to get in front of her way. She, in an unnatural strength, pushed him over and out the way.

I just started crying. It just sort of happened. I wailed and sobbed, but she didn't care. When, at last, we reached the point she had aimed for she twisted my wrist painfully, jerking me up. She was loudly demanding in a forced calm for me to confess. I tried to tell the truth, but she wasn't interested and was getting really angry. I was scared and she was as strong as John. I yelled for him and she smack me across the jaw. I yelled for him again and she slapped my hand. I yelled and yelled and refused to stand and so she pulled my hair. I stood up and yelled for John and she gave me a swift thump on the back. I yelped like dog.

Then, John stormed in. I'd never been more thrilled to see him. I'd never seen him lose his temper before and I was glad that it looked like he could match her if needed be. For a few terrible seconds, I was rag doll in tug-a-war, then I was in his arms and his chest was heaving and reverberating with his yells. A candle holder whizzed by and smashed something across the room. He fled with me in his arms.

He locked and barricaded us in the dinning room. We actually sat under the table. He held me like Darry had after a nightmare, with me wrapped, and practically knotted, around him. He rubbed my hair as I buried my face in his chest. His voice crackled like Rice Crispies as he inspected me for lasting injuries.

This wasn't supposed to happen. People didn't live like this, except Johnny... and Steve, and Mark, and me too, I guess. From the outside, I thought, the house looks as neat and quiet as ever; like a ginger bread house with sweet, pink frosting all around the edges.

That was the difference. It was rough all over, but the South side had things rough in a quieter, more expensive way that didn't show so much on the outside. The North side looked as rough as it felt, and as poor.

Milly sounded like a devil, or person in pain, or both. Maybe she was both. It was a sound you wanted to end, but couldn't go near to stop it. We were scared for ourselves, but we scared for her too.

I tired to remind myself that trouble looks different ways, but its trouble from any way you stand. My brothers had been in more dangerous fights. Milly was sober without chains, heaters, or a blade. I was trembling. I wasn't cry, I realized. Why wasn't I cry? Shouldn't I be crying? I was clutching onto John like my only life-line.

"It's okay Baby." he offered breathlessly. "It's okay." He knew it wasn't. I knew it too. It still felt good. I guess, that's just something people need to hear.

The next day dawned, and I found I was surprised. After some days, we just don't expect that same brightness to rise again tomorrow. However, I knew that day was the end of school for me, and in some ways I was happy, as all kids are when summer begins.

After I rode Mickey Mouse that afternoon, John took me for an ice-cream Sunday and then to a baseball game. It was one of the most fun times I'd ever had. He wasn't buying me off either. He had the same day as I had yesterday. He just wanted some fun. I was tired as we headed home. The drive was long, but with the top down and the cool breeze in the balmy summer night I soon drifted off.

The car ride seemed to go on and on, but I didn't mind. It seemed like we could be out in the country by now. I had been there before and it was nice. There was a lot of room to play and you could stay out after dark.

John nudged me and said something odd. I didn't register it, because I was half asleep.

"Baby, I'm gonna tell you what I ought to have told that judge. I can give you anything in the world you want to wear. I can give you classes in anything you want to learn. I can feed you well. I can even love you, but even I can't protect you. Milly's sick, she can't help it, I suppose, but it's not right to put you through that. I'm sorry for being so selfish. The North side's rough, but you got big, tough brothers. I guess three of them can keep an eye on you better than anyone else. Don't be a stranger, kid-o."

As I slipped off into the comfortable darkness around me, I barely registered the steps up which his arms were carrying me this time. I didn't recognize the different, yet familiar smell that was now around me. Ironic, isn't it? After all that time of longing, I didn't even realize when I was home at last.

_A/N: Yep-I said it- home at last. I have a little epilogue I've been planning since the beginning for you, so don't worry, one last thing will be posted. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this story, my writing, what you'd like to see in the future from me...whatever. Feel free. Thanks again for reading!_


	17. EpilogueThe North Side

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Babygirl**

_"Yep, it's an original name, but my dad was an original person..."_

**Epilogue:** The North Side

That was about two months ago, but sometimes, when I wake up, I have to make sure I am where I think I am. I open my eyes, look around, and take it all in.

My bedroom is light blue and white. There is one poster of Babe Ruth and a picture of my family at Christmas. I have a few books, but I get most that I read I get from the library. I have my mom's hand mirror on my dresser and that's pretty much it. My bookbag hangs on my bedpost. It reads: "Babygirl Cutis"-as one word. My bat leans up in the corner. It's taken a few dints, but it still works really well and hit home run just yesterday. My closest consists of a Sunday dress, two pairs of jeans, two pairs of overalls, a jacket, and five t-shirts. None of them are pink.

Sure, my room's not much, and it's not really girly, but I love it.

When I wake up, I stumble into the living room or kitchen and everybody else is already moving about and getting on each other's nerves. My hair is a wild jungle and my teeth aren't even brushed yet, but no one cares. They just make sure I eat some cake and eggs before they're all gone.

It's not unusual to smell beer, witness a fight, be challenged to one myself, pop wheelees with Johnny on my way to the kitchen, find myself engulfed in a cloud of smoke, or have shoes narrowly miss hitting my head first thing in the morning. I think it's interesting, though.

Unfortunately, I have to do the dishes. No excuses. I think if my appendix burst, the plates would still have to be clean before I could be rushed to the E.R.

Sometimes, I wonder how John and Eugene are enjoying their quiet breakfasts and if maybe they are thinking about me too.

Sometimes, I have nightmares that Milly comes my housewhen no one is there and she takes me away. Sometimes I have nightmares that the court makes me go back to the North side. Sometimes Dally even teases me about sending me back to the Socs if I get on his nerves anymore. But of course, they are kidding, no one is coming, and I will never have to leave again. I am sure of this because, no matter what, I always wake up back on the North side of town, and there's no where else I'd rather be. I know that now.

_A/N: Get it? Well, thanks for everything! I hoped you enjoyed it. Please tell me what you thought of the end! Good luck and Gob Bless! Also: to all who read: please vote 'yes' or 'no' for a sequel. No gurantees. Thanks, once more, for reading!_


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